The Recovery Period
by Sunnykisses
Summary: Danny is sick of the lovefest surrounding Steve post 6x25, and goes to drastic measures to avoid him - namely, ditching the hospital early to recover at his ex-wife's despite an irritated Stan. Meanwhile, Steve begins to realize that Danny has been wrongly ignored, Chin adjusts to raising his niece, and the rest of 5-0 scrambles to solve a devastating murder with no clear motive.
1. The Longest Night

**The Recovery Period: Chapter One**

 **TW: Minor character death. Violence. Language.**

 **A/n: Yet another attempt to make sense of that last scene of 6x25. I so enjoyed writing Take Two, and although this is technically a sequel, it is not necessary to read the fic before reading this. I may give light spoilers to Take Two, but I'll try not to. Anyway, hope you enjoy this sequel. Please let me know what you think! And don't worry, Steve will show up in chapter two. Hope this helps fill the between-seasons void!**

* * *

Danny honestly never imagined he would reach a point in his life in which he would wish for the appearance of Stan Edwards. But after nearly two weeks stuck in a hospital bed, Danny would take help from his sworn enemy. If a stranger had entered his room out of the blue and offered to take him anywhere other than the hospital, Danny would not have hesitated. Not that Danny was particularly opposed to hospitals. Hospitals healed. That was always a good thing. It was just the ogre in the bed next to him Danny could no longer stand to be around.

Although he desperately wanted to rub the crick in his neck, Danny did not dare raise his arms. His cracked ribs still bothered him, and would for quite some time. They were nowhere near healed – part of his doctor's hesitation to release Danny early.

Part of Danny wished the man asleep in the bed next to him – his partner, Steve – was awake. He wished Steve was awake and things were better. He wished he could see the look on Steve's face when he told him Stan, of all people, was picking him up from the hospital so Danny could recover for at least two more weeks under the watchful eye of his ex-wife, her second husband, and his children. But Danny was slipping away unnoticed.

This was easy enough to do – Danny had only been seen by nurses nearly his entire time at the hospital. Steve had received nearly all of the visitors. And phone calls. And emails. And press. Cards. Flowers. Balloons. Cookie cakes. Fucking cookie cakes. And half of Danny's liver, lest anyone forget, which everyone had seemed to. So, in the end, Danny had cornered his doctor and begged for an early release just to get away from Steve. He had not wanted to switch rooms and hurt Steve's feelings, but he had to get away. His doctor was hesitant to release Danny on account of his ribs, but Danny insisted. He said he felt completely fine and could hardly feel any pain. This, of course, was a lie.

"You're not even halfway through your recovery period." Danny's doctor had told him. "I don't feel comfortable with this. Besides, your partner obviously is more comfortable around you."

"Okay, but doc..." Danny leaned against the counter of the Nurses' Station heavily. His knees were wobbly. This was his first time walking down the hall. On account of his cracked ribs he breathed in and out gently. "Doc, listen. This is more of an interpersonal thing, you understand? Just because I want to leave doesn't mean I'm not getting treated well here. I just…this place wasn't meant for a guy like me, you know?"

Danny's doctor looked at him as if he was reading Danny's chart off of his forehead. "Someone suffering from a neurosis, you mean."

Danny was silent for a moment. "Okay…um, yes. A neurosis. Fine. The point is, I'd really rather just go home. Steve, you know, he worries sometimes, too. I think my being right next to him this whole time isn't good. He can't really sleep without knowing I'm okay, and I want him to focus on his own recovery."

"I think you may have that switched, detective." His doctor examined Danny once more, before rubbing the back of his neck. "You aren't currently in pain?"

"I feel great, doc. Best I've felt in days." Danny clutched his side cautiously, hoping the doctor wouldn't notice.

"You have someone in mind who can take care of you for at least the next three weeks?"

"Yes." Danny answered immediately. "My nephew lives with me. Uh, he's older than you think. He's _incredibly_ responsible, doc."

Another lie, of course. Eric was an oaf, first of all, who spent his days off completely immersed in an assortment of video games. Recently, Eric had tried to introduce Danny to the finer qualities of "catching 'em all". Unfortunately (or fortunately, as Danny tended to think) Eric was taking a much needed vacation. He had gone back to Jersey to visit the family. Eric had taken the results of the Joel Novak case hard. The case, which had concluded six months ago, was far out of the minds of most of 5-0 – still, the case had changed how Danny and Eric viewed each other for the better. Occasionally, Danny and Eric even began speaking about Mattie again. But Eric was in New Jersey until at least the next day. He was on the tail end of his vacation time. After the plane crash, Danny had insisted Eric stay with the family in Jersey. It was Rachel who had initially called Clara Williams to inform her of her son's hospitalization. Clara was barely off of the phone before she had told the whole family. Danny was sure he wouldn't be able to count how many Hail Marys were said on his behalf. But that was in Jersey. None were said on his behalf in Hawaii.

"Detective." Danny's doctor was saying something. Danny blinked away his trailing thoughts.

"Uh," he cleared his throat. "Like I say, my nephew is really…he's really…" Danny gave up. "He's something."

The doctor stared at Danny. It was nearing midnight and he was tired. "Okay." He sighed. "Clearly, you're strained being here."

"True." Danny said slowly, trying not to look too hopeful.

"Your constant state of agitation is not healthy for your blood pressure or the recovery of your partner." He looked down at his charts. "Under the conditions that you will have a caretaker, and you'll stay off of your feet, and you'll continue to take your medication, and get a lot of rest, and drink lots of fluids-"

"Absolutely. Absolutely, doc. You're one in a million. A real mensch." Danny patted the doctor on the back. The doctor scowled in response, shutting Danny's chart and walking away.

He was free.

Now he just needed someone to take care of him.

The first person Danny thought of was Chin Ho Kelly. If anyone could aptly take care of the recovering Danny, it would be Chin, who often calmed Danny's pestering anxiety, whereas Steve tended to only aggravate it. Chin, also, had been the only member of 5-0 who had actually made somewhat of an effort to visit Danny during his hospitalization. Of course, Chin had visited Steve first, but after Steve became too tired Chin would turn towards Danny and actually ask him how he was doing, which was more than anyone else had done.

"Danny, hey." Chin answered on what felt like the twentieth ring. He was unusually distracted. He managed to ask for an update on Steve. Then he asked about Danny, almost as an afterthought. Danny tried not to take this to heart. Before Danny could even make his request, Chin interrupted Danny to apologize. He did not have much time to talk on the phone. He had received a call from child services. Turns out he would be able to begin the process to adopt his niece. She would be coming home in the next few days, and he had to clean. And he wanted to put up pictures of Malia, to make Sara feel comfortable. Meanwhile, Abby was in San Francisco, so work was backed up with just Lou, Kono, and him on the job. He just had too much on his plate, especially now with a report of shots fired just a few minutes ago on Mokule'ia Beach. Chin was on his way to the crime scene now.

"Anyway. What was it that was on your mind, brah?" Chin let out a sigh.

"Don't worry about it." Danny responded after some hesitation. "Just wanted you to know about Steve."

"Glad he's still getting lots of sleep."

"Yeah. Me too." Danny said. His shoulders drooped. "Uh, what do you have on the shots fired?"

"Oh no, don't even think about it, brah. You need to recover."

"Not e-"

"Gotta go, Danny. Tell Steve we're thinking about him." Chin's voice was suddenly urgent, and he hung up quickly. Danny stared at his phone, at a loss.

That was when Grace had texted her father, wanting to know how _he_ was doing – a novel thought. Danny hardly allowed himself to really comprehend the way he had thus far been treated, but, hell, fucking Stan Edwards had showed more compassion towards Danny than the likes of 5-0, and Steve had yet to realize any of this. Not that Danny intended on bringing it up. He was too proud for that. But he would soon be swallowing his pride when he reluctantly agreed to his daughter's ludicrous suggestion – that he should stay with Rachel, Stan, and she and Charlie.

The nurses prepared to discharge him. Some were reluctant to do so, but had no choice. Danny was surprisingly complacent, and by the time he had finished the paperwork his daughter was hugging him, and he was holding her, and his heart stopped beating so wildly with the incessant anxiety he had felt since Steve had been shot.

Stan stood slightly away from the door to Danny and Steve's room, obviously agitated. Danny pulled away from his daughter and gingerly walked towards Stan. He held out his hand. Stan hesitated, glancing at Grace before shaking Danny's hand.

"We should probably go." Stan said crisply.

Danny nodded. As the three walked away, Danny looked back at the sleeping Steve only once.

* * *

Chin left his after quickly ending his conversation with Danny. Mokule'ia Beach was crowded with police officers, even at nearly three in the morning. Chin knew the beach well, and easily navigated through the cool sand. Despite the dark, Chin could spot the jolting flashlights further ahead that shone towards the bundle of trees in the distance. The sound of lapping waves was smothered by the crackling of police radio.

"Lieutenant Kelly." A young rookie came to meet him, shaking his hand quickly. "Glad you're here."

"What happened?"

"It's better just to show you, sir." The rookie was clearly at a loss. "Come with me."

She led him to the woods, where the flashlights were congregated. Indeed, Chin could now see a trail of blood – no, two trails.

"How many involved?" Chin asked, kneeling down to take a look at the blood. It was fresh. He followed the darker trail with his eyes. More policemen and women were gathered in the midst of the forest. Chin began to walk towards them.

"We believe there was only one shooter, sir." The rookie caught up to Chin quickly. "One shooter, two victims. The first body is up here, sir."

Indeed, Chin had reached the circle of police. The flashes from cameras and phones lit up the body sprawled on the roots.

The police had found him face down, but once the medical examiners had arrived he was turned over. He was young. Maybe twenty years old, but not any older. His dark hair was matted with dirt and blood. Chin noted the hole in the boy's chest. The bullet had gone clean through the back. He was also bleeding from his neck. Perhaps a second bullet had grazed h-

"Lieutenant Kelly." A medical examiner Chin did not recognize, but undoubtedly one who was working in lieu of Max, held out his hand. "Dr. Kurokawa."

"What happened here, doctor?"

"Looks to me like the vic was running away from the shooter. At this point he had probably been shot once already. Here, at his neck. The bullet only grazed his neck. Was then shot again, in the chest. At this point he tripped over this root and hit his head. I would say the time of death an hour ago. Two a.m."

"No lead on the shooter?" Chin asked, looking around at the policemen and women. They all shook their heads.

"There's no weapon here, sir. Nothing.

"Who called this in?" Chin asked next.

"The boy who was with him, sir. GSW to the shoulder. Apparently he had run further ahead than our vic. Managed to call 9-1-1 before he fainted."

"Okay." Chin said. He nodded to himself. "What's the boy's name?"

"Don't know, sir. He was unresponsive when we found him. We didn't even know he was alive."

"Okay." Chin said again. "Dr. Kurokawa, are you set to take the body back?"

"I am, lieutenant."

"Fine. I'll go to the hospital and see our second victim."

"I'll give you the address, sir." The rookie to whom Chin had first spoken was at his side again. Chin nodded at her.

"And, sir?" The group of young rookies looked at Chin hopefully before left. "Please let Commander McGarrett know we hope he feels better soon.

"Of course." Chin's eyes softened. "He'll be glad to hear it."


	2. Rising and Falling

**The Recovery Period**

 **Chapter Two**

 **A/n: Thank you so much to all those who reviewed the past chapter! Next chapter will go back to the case, but I wanted to devote this chapter to Steve, to try and understand exactly why he said what he did to Danny in 6x25. This doesn't fully explain, but it starts to. Let me know what you think!**

* * *

Steve jolted awake from yet another annoyingly long slumber, disoriented and thirsty. He hated the feeling of waking up while still so medicated. In his sleep he felt nothing and heard nothing, so that when he woke up he felt like he had fallen off of a cliff and hit the water below in an altogether shocking and unexpected turn of events. His eyes always shot open. His breath rose in sharp intakes. His medicated sleeps were so unnaturally deep, so foreign a concept to Steve that when he woke up Danny often was sitting straight up in bed, eyes narrowed in concern and hair matted. Danny slept like Steve wished he could, like he used to – light, alert, always listening for any sign of distress from his partner.

The first time he woke up at the hospital, after the plane crash and the surgery, Steve felt his eyes open but did not trust them. He was numb everywhere and had yet to experience the pain he would feel in the agonizing time between doses of medicine. In fact, due to his hazy state, Steve was unnaturally calm. He blinked once more to try and clear the fog. When this didn't work, he simply focused on the figures before him. Eventually, his vision cleared.

No one spoke, for fear of disturbing Steve, but the three tensed up as soon as Steve's eyes open. They invariably leaned forward, waiting for any sign of pain. They were prepared to alert the nurse at Steve's first twitch.

Kono, Chin, and Lou stood shoulder to shoulder. Steve would have smiled, but could not find the strength to curl his lips. He blinked once more against the light of the room, which seemed to come from nowhere but was everywhere. He focused on Chin's soft smile, oblivious to the concern in his eyes. Steve found the will to reach out his hand and wrap it around Chin's outstretched palm.

"Welcome back." Chin said gently, assuming the one chair next to Steve's bed. Steve's eyes left Chin and looked at Kono and Lou. They both looked worse for wear. Kono was pale – paler than he had ever seen her. Lou was grim. They did not smile at him, but there relief was obvious. Still, the looks they gave him made Steve feel cornered, like something was terribly wrong – something to which he was not yet privy, but he felt like he should know anyway.

His throat was dry, and any attempts at speaking were futile. Only when Kono eventually broke out of her haze and handed Chin a cup of water with a straw did Steve feel he could say anything. He accepted the water gratefully, too medicated to feel embarrassed that Chin was holding the cup for him. The water coursed through Steve's body, and he felt a rush of strength, so much so that he started to sit up.

A flicker of pain, somewhere in the distance, forced Steve to close his eyes, and when he did, he could hear Danny's voice. _I forbid you to die, you piece of shit, you hear me? Huh? You can't. Steve. Steve. Buddy. Please. Stay with me. Stay—_

"Steve." Chin's sudden hand on Steve's shoulder forced his eyes open.

"Danny." His first word upon awakening. His voice seemed so far away, and for the first time Steve began to realize that something _was_ terribly wrong. He fought against the medication that so clouded his thoughts, his actions, his alertness. Steve shook his head angrily. Something wasn't right. He had to know what was going on. "Chin."

"I'm here, Steve."

"Where is he?" Steve searched his old friend's eyes. "Chin, what's going on?"

Chin hesitated, then looked back at his cousin. Kono bit her lip. Lou had his hands on his hips.

"Why don't you tell us what you remember, Steve." Lou suggested.

"I remember everything." Steve lied. "Tell me where Danny is."

"Boss, I think you should rest." Kono knelt down to be level to Steve. She took his hand. "There's so much to explain."

"Chin." Seeing he would get no answer from Kono or Lou, Steve fixed his gaze once more on Chin.

"After you were shot, Danny had to land the plane." He started. Steve stared at him, transfixed. _What plane? Dany doesn't know how to fly a plane, let alone land one._ But Steve had told them he remembered everything, so he continued to listen.

"It wasn't a smooth landing." Chin put in. From behind him, Lou scowled. Kono looked away.

"We managed to get you to the hospital. That was when the doctor told us you would need a liver transplant."

And just like that, Steve understood. Chin seemed ready to state what was so obvious to Steve, but Steve shook his head. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want Chin to confirm what he already knew.

Danny had given Steve half of his liver.

They had spoken about this nearly two years ago. It had been right after Mattie died. Danny had avoided everyone and everything in his grief. He had not answered Steve's phone calls or texts. Danny even called Rachel to tell her he wouldn't be up to his weekend with Grace. Rachel had subsequently called Steve, and Steve knew then that he would have to speak with his partner.

Many beers later (a rare feat for both men, who hardly ever allowed themselves to get really wasted), Danny had drunkenly grabbed Steve's arm. He told him that if anything ever happened to Grace, that would be it. He would kill himself. Steve had heard him say this once before, outside of court one day during the height of his custody battle with Rachel. It still hurt to hear it. So, instead, Steve countered that if anything ever happened to Danny, Steve would make sure he didn't die. He would do anything. The bereaved Danny was touched by this, and pledged to do the same. Steve had crashed not long after on the floor next to Danny, and when the two woke up, their backs aching from the hard floor and hungover, they silently agreed that they would honor their promise to each other. It was one of Danny's first trips outside of his house after the death of his brother when he and Steve went to the hospital to get their blood tested.

"With your luck I will have given you any number of my vital organs by next week." Danny had rolled his eyes.

"You don't trust me, partner?" Steve had grinned.

"No." Danny was quick to answer. "Only with my life, apparently."

Steve had never expected this day to actually come. He closed his eyes again, hoping for another flash of memory. But there was nothing. Only his growing anger. At himself for forcing Danny into this situation. At Danny, for risking his life for him.

"Is he alone?" Steve opened his eyes and looked at Kono, Lou, and Chin. "Why are you here? Why is no one with him?"

Kono looked at Steve. "You're the boss." She said simply.

Steve didn't want to hear this. He had yet to grasp everything that had happened to him. His hospital gown covered the healing wounds and scars, but he could see the look on Kono's face. She was clearly where she wanted to be. So were the others.

"Go see him." Steve ordered. "Go. Get out of here." Finally, he seemed to break his fog. As he moved to gesture towards the door, a deep soreness was awoken. Steve clamped his mouth shut to not cry out. "Go see if Danny's okay."

"You're hurt."

"So is he."

"We're not leaving you." Lou said indignantly. "You need help."

Steve reached for the button on his bed and pressed it. The nurse would be coming soon. "Now I have help." He said. "Go see Danny. For me."

And slowly, they left. Steve didn't see them again that day. When he woke up next, he knew time had passed. Chin was sitting next to him, but he was wearing different clothes. He was turned away from Steve, leaning forward and speaking quietly on his cell phone.

"I understand." Chin was saying. "Yes, thank you. Talk to you soon." Chin ended the conversation with a soft sigh. He stared at his dark phone, his expression hard to read.

Steve turned his head towards Chin, trying to determine what was bothering his friend. Once again, the medicine scattered an unnatural calm all around Steve. Last time, he felt numb. Today, he felt light. Almost happy. Despite everything.

"Who was that, Chin?" he asked.

Chin started, not knowing Steve was awake. He smiled sheepishly. "Don't worry about it. How are you?"

"Tired. Was it about your niece?"

Chin was surprised again. He nodded. "You remember."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Steve said. His voice sounded so far away. "Everything good?"

"I think so." Chin said. He put his phone away. "Actually, Sara might be coming home sooner than I thought. I thi-"

"Boss!" Kono, Jerry, and Lou entered the room, a nurse right at their heels.

"There are far too many of you in here." The nurse stated indignantly.

"Yeah, and you're lucky there aren't more of us." Lou shot back. "We're all staying."

"Fine. But I'm changing his I.V." The nurse brushed past Lou. Steve, lost in his medicated haze, eagerly complied as the nurse attended to him.

"You've seen Danny?" Steve asked, his arm outstretched as the nurse removed the needle in his arm.

"We've seen him." Lou nodded. "He's jacked up on pain killers. He hasn't woken up yet. At least when we've been around."

Steve silently chided himself for his actions before. Everything must be fine. They were letting Danny sleep before, and he was still asleep. There was nothing to worry about. He was relieved.

"Thanks for checking on him." Steve said. "He'll wake up soon. He has to catch up on his complaining."

"Yeah." Chin filled in the awkward silence that followed. "Uh, Jer, you have those cards?"

"Oh, yeah." Jerry held up two reusable bags. They were filled to the brim.

"What are those for?" Steve asked. The nurse had stopped, too, to look.

"Cards. Printed emails. Voicemail transcripts. More cards. So many cards." Lou explained. "All thanking the man who saved the city."

5-0 had spent the next ten minutes or so reading cards to Steve, until Steve grew tired and fell asleep. Nearly a week later, once Steve was well enough to leave ICU, he had been wheeled into Danny's room. Despite this, Steve did not remember much from the last week. He knew he had received many visitors, but he could hardly remember who. He remembered Danny's face during certain times. He remember Danny's tone and Grace at one point, but that was it. He was so loopy all the time. He hadn't felt any pain. He really hadn't felt anything. He sensed things were different for Danny, whom he recalled once asking the nurse for less pain medication. He couldn't remember why. Danny was clearly in pain.

Steve looked over now, days after even this, and finally realized Danny was gone. His senses were so shot he hadn't even realized what was happening. The bed was made. The pillow was placed neatly at the top of the bed. Danny was nowhere to be found.

When the nurse came to change his bandages, Steve was informed that Danny had left early in the morning. Steve had been asleep.

"Did he mention leaving?" Steve was confused. His mind was muddled.

"No." The nurse was clearly not as bothered as Steve was. "It was a sudden thing. His daughter and another man picked him up."

"What man? Chin Ho Kelly?"

"I don't know." The nurse shrugged. "All I know is that your partner was eager to leave, even though he shouldn't have left. He's nowhere near ready to recover on his own."


	3. Choices

**The Recovery Period**

 **Chapter Three**

 **A/n: I never realized how many characters were on this show until I tried to write a fic encompassing all of them. Hence Abby's being in San Francisco and Eric's being in New Jersey. For this chapter, here's a look into Kono's thoughts. Next chapter will bring more Danny (finally)! Thank you again for all the reviews. They mean so much to me.**

* * *

The young boy who had survived the shooting was named Makoa. He was eighteen years old. A senior in high school. Set to graduate in a month. Now he was in the hospital, recovering from a gunshot to the shoulder and brokenly coming to terms with the death of Keola, his boyfriend of nearly a year.

Makoa sat up in bed, his eyes wide with shock. Kono sat next to him, back straight and shoulders set.

"Explain it again." Makoa whispered. He stared at the tablet on Kono's lap, trying to discern what she had written on it. His hands were clamped together, so Kono would not see them shaking.

Kono nodded solemnly. "You and Keola, your boyfriend, were at the beach from approximately twelve in the morning until two in the morning. At 1:30 a.m., our suspect approached you and opened fire."

"A woman." Makoa said. "The shooter was a woman."

"A woman." Kono nodded. "Suspect opened fire. You and Keola ran away, but Keola was shot. Once you reached the forest he fell, you ran ahead, unaware. You called the police, then. Suspect chased you into the woods. You evaded the suspect but you were shot in the shoulder. The suspect ran away, then. You started to run back to Keola, but tripped over some roots and hit your head. You remained unconscious until-"

"Until I woke up here." Makoa finished. He nodded at Kono. "Yes, that's what I remember." His eyes were red from the tears that erupted from confused anger. Makoa was like any other teenager – his head was filled with the notion of his assumed invincibility. Now his boyfriend was dead. Now the glass had been broken. Makoa wanted answers. Makoa wanted justice for his boyfriend, who was only nineteen years old and had so much life ahead of him.

"And you have no idea why anyone would want to hurt you or Keola?"

"No." Makoa's answer was immediate. "No. No, we're barely adults. Still kids. We had no enemies. I'm in high school. This makes no sense."

"Okay. Okay." Kono said. She realized Makoa was in shock, so she did not want to press him. She also realized that his perspective was clouded with misery, and she took his words with a grain of salt. "Makoa, can you tell me about the shooter again?"

"Uh," Makoa searched his memory. "Like I said, a woman. A haole. Dark hair. She was wearing black. Uh, she was tall." He paused. "I don't know. I'd never seen her before. She was, like, forty years old? I don't know." He looked down. "I don't know what she wanted from us."

 _She wanted you dead, clearly,_ Kono thought, and then stopped, surprised at herself. What had gotten into her recently?

"Makoa," Kono cleared her throat, anything to distract her from her own thoughts. "Get some rest. I'm going to speak to your family outside. Once my partner and I finish speaking with your parents, we'll let them back in to see you, all right? Hang in there." She held out her hand. Makoa hesitated.

"Will I be able to see him?" he asked weakly. "Can I see Keola?"

Kono was silent. Makoa's eyes were pleading.

"Once you're better." She said finally. "I'll see what I can do."

Makoa shook Kono's hand. It was a deal.

* * *

Chin sat in the hospital cafeteria with Makoa's parents and younger brother. No one ate. The younger brother, a fourteen year-old named Lono, occasionally drank from a reusable bottle. He and his father had just returned from a soccer tournament on another island. Makoa's mother was not able to get ahold of them until the next day. Lono was pulled out at halftime, and the two rushed across grass, ocean, and road to get to the hospital. Now, exhausted, the two sat next to each other, Lono still in uniform. His expression was blank, but he glanced constantly towards the door to the hallway, as if expecting Makoa to walk through at any moment. The father had his head in his hands. Makoa's mother seemed the most alert of them all. She answered all of Chin's questions with clarity, despite having been at the hospital since 2:30 a.m.

"Keola did not have a good family life." She was saying. "He often was at our house, just to stay away from his foster parents, whom he hated."

"They weren't his first set of foster parents, either." The father said into his hands. When this went unheard, he lifted his head and repeated the statement. Chin wrote this down. "He and his foster siblings often fought."

"What do you know of his biological parents?" Chin asked. Kono entered the cafeteria, then, striding over to join them.

"Officer Kalakaua." Chin introduced his cousin as she took a seat.

"Hi." The father said. He then looked at his wife. "Of his biological mother, not much. She's a haole from Arizona. She had tried to contact Keola many times this past year. We don't know why. Makoa never said."

"Yeah we do." Lono spoke for the first time. He was staring at his father, afraid to look at the officers. "She didn't want Keola to have a boyfriend. She thought that was wrong."

Chin and Kono looked at each other.

"Makoa told you that?" The mother looked at her youngest son. Lono nodded.

"And what of Keola's father? Was he homophobic, too?" Kono asked.

"Not that we knew of." The mother said. "He's here, in Oahu. But he's in prison-"

"-Was the muscle guy for some seedy casino, apparently." The father cut in. The mother nodded.

"Keola never spoke of his father, and if he visited, Makoa didn't go with him."

"Keola opposed authority." The father seemed more alert now. His hands were resting on the table now and no longer a crutch for his head. "He did for as long as we knew him. He never paid attention in school. He barely graduated."

"But he wasn't a bad kid, really." The mother put in. She shook her head. "I don't understand why anyone would…" Her voice trailed off. She seemed close to tears.

Chin closed his notepad. "I know you three must be tired. We'll stop with the questioning for today. Once our colleague, Captain Grover, returns from speaking with Keola's foster parents, we may contact you again. Is that all right?"

"Yes, of course." The mother nodded numbly. Tears had since welled up in her eyes. She brushed some aside as Chin handed her his card. Her husband glanced at their youngest son, who was looking down again.

"I want you to know that we are going to try our hardest to solve this case." Chin placed a hand on the mother's shoulder. "The information you gave us today has been very helpful. Mahalo."

"Mahalo." The mother returned.

"Yes, I know you must be working double." The father said. "Since 5-0's top two guys are injured."

"Yes, we read about that in the papers. Please extend our well wishes to Commander McGarrett." The mother explained. "He has truly saved our city from a horrible epidemic."

"Mahalo. We will." Kono said.

Lono muttered something unintelligible.

"What's that?" the father turned to his son.

"And his partner." Lono looked up. "He's partner saved the city, too. The detective."

"Yes, Detective Williams." Chin said. "We'll extend your gratitude to both men. Thank you for your understanding. It is difficult without their input. But your case is our top priority, rest assured."

"We should go." Kono said.

Chin shook the hands of Makoa's parents once more before he and his cousin strode out of the cafeteria.

"Let's go see the boss." Kono said as they walked down the hallway. "Did you hear about Danny?"

"What, that he left the hospital?" Chin asked.

"Not just the hospital, Chin. He left Steve, too."

"Kono." Chin grabbed his cousin's arm. Kono stopped, sighing and turning to face Chin. Her face was indignant. "Kono, what's gotten into you?"

"He shouldn't have left Steve." Kono shrugged with a forced casual air. "That's all."

"Sit down." Chin said, pointing to a set of chairs near them. Kono did so, rolling her eyes.

"There's not much to say, cuz."

"You haven't said much at all since the plane crash." Chin countered. "What's really on your mind?"

"Nothing." Kono said. "Just worried about Steve." She caught Chin's affronted stare. "And Danny. Danny, too. It's just…Oh, God." Kono put her head in her hands. "Chin, I…I don't know how to say it."

"Try." Chin put his hand on Kono's knee. "You can tell me anything, Kono. It doesn't have to be thought out. I just want to understand."

"It's just, when we realized the plane was going to crash and Steve and Danny might die…I don't know, I guess I just…I went into shock. It's hard enough being separated from Adam. But Steve has given me everything. And Danny has always had my back. I couldn't lose them both, too. I think I just…I made a choice. Is that fucked up? I made a choice. In order to deal with the worst, if it happened." She ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm not sure I follow, cuz."

"I chose Steve. Theoretically, I can live without Danny. He…he complains, and he has all sorts of problems in his head, and he's tied down with the kids and the ex and…"

"You're not-"

"Just hear me out. I can live without Danny but I can't live without Steve. Steve's done so much for me. So I made a choice. And when…and now that they're both going to be okay, I can't…I can't believe I would ever choose. How could I choose? I feel horrible. When I look at Danny I feel horrible. I feel sick. But I also know I made the right decision. I mean, c'mon, Chin, didn't I make the right decision? Wouldn't you choose Steve over Danny?"

Chin was silent. He was truly at a loss for words. "Cuz," he started slowly, "Kono. Kono, there's no choice to make."

"There's always a choice, Chin."

"No." Chin shook his head. "No, because Steve and Danny are closer than we know. I think they're closer than we can comprehend. They're partners."

"You should be Steve's partner." Kono whispered. "You're higher ranked. You have more experience in Hawaii. This is our home. This isn't his home."

"It's his home now, Kono."

"It's not fair."

"It is fair. It's fair because Steve chose Danny."

"Over you."

"Over me, yes. Over you, too. But Steve saw something in Danny six years ago; that's why they're partners. I'm perfectly happy to be a member of 5-0. I don't have to be Steve's partner. If Steve needs my input, he'll ask. And he does. Same with you, Lou, and Abby." Chin paused. "I thought you liked Danny."

"I did, too." Kono whispered. "I don't know what happened. I guess the crash just put things into perspective for me."

"Have you spoken to Danny about this?"

"God, no."

"Do you intend to?"

"No." Kono said. Then she looked over at Chin. "I think Lou feels the same way as me."

Chin cursed under his breath. "I think you're both greatly underestimating Danny's role in 5-0."

"Am I?" Kono countered.

"Yes." Chin responded. "Yes. Y-" Before he could continue, his phone rang. He glanced at the Caller ID, not expecting to know who the caller was.

"I thought Lou was with the foster parents." Kono said.

"It's not Lou." Chin said, standing up. "Excuse me."

"Child Services?" Kono stood up as well. Chin didn't say anything.

"Go see Danny, Kono." He muttered before walking away, rubbing the back of his neck and speaking to the agent on the phone.


	4. Stan's Chagrin

**The Recovery Period**

 **Chapter Four**

 **A/n: Here's chapter four. Thank you all for your reviews. Steve will reappear in the next chapter - I'm building up until Danny and Steve cross paths once more!**

* * *

"I don't know what I did, but let me fix it." Stan looked at his wife pleadingly. He was livid. He was livid beyond words, and didn't quite know what to do with himself. Stan never got angry. In fact, Stan's stoicism was one of his trademark reasons why he was so different than Rachel's first husband, the man asleep in their guest bedroom, exhausted just from kissing his daughter on the forehead and trudging up the stairs (with Stan's help). Stan's lack of emotional depth was different altogether than Danny's one-note, quick-to-anger mentality. Stan was diplomatic. He always saw all sides of the argument and formed the best solution. Some might view him as cold, but after a failed marriage to the Jersey hothead that is Danny Williams, Rachel yearned for someone who was the complete opposite. She got this in Stan, who was able to rationalize even the most horrible of circumstances in the loss of his son. At this moment, however, Stan could did not seem to comprehend anything.

"Rachel." he looked at her. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing, Stan." Rachel was exasperated. "I'm not pleased with the situation either, but he's Grace and Charlie's father. He needs our help."

"Honey." Stan developed a patronizing tone - perhaps he was unaware of this. "Rach. There are many reasons why I have a problem with this. Not only were you married to Danny, but you had an affair with him. He's the father of my son. His son. Fuck." Stan threw up his hands. "I'm never going to stop doing that."

"He has no one, Stan. Stan, I love you, I know this makes you uncomfortable, and I'm sorry. I can't defend my actions, or Danny's. But Grace wants him here. I'm worried Danny won't take care of himself on his own. The only person who would truly care for him as well as his daughter would be Steve, but he's in the hospital and is even worse. Please, Stan. You know this is the only option."

Stan stared at his wife listlessly before looking down. He pulled back his suit jacket sleeve and looked at his watch. He was already late to work. He shook his head, sighed, and grabbed his briefcase. "How long?" he asked.

"A month, at least."

Stan cursed again. "I don't want any fucking family dinners. I don't...I don't want to feel like the odd man out. Rachel. _I'm_ your husband." He searched for more words to say, but ending up turning around and leaving in wordless rage.

* * *

Danny was, in fact, in agreement with Stan. He had only begrudgingly accepted Stan's help up the stairs after Grace had insisted. By the time Stan nearly dropped Danny onto the guest room bed, Danny's legs were trembling and his mind filled with flickers of regret. He should not have left the hospital. He should not have left –

But he felt he had to. Stubborn as he was, even if Danny completely regretted his decision later, he would never admit defeat.

"Your ribs must still be shit, Danny. What are you doing here?" Stan had asked once they had reached the top of the stairs.

"If they were shit, Stanley, I would not have left the hospital." Danny responded with a forced ease. Case in point. Stan had given up and left the room not long after to complain to Rachel. Then it was just Grace and Danny. Grace had been avoiding his gaze, but helped her father over to the bed.

"Are you going to sleep?" She asked him, brown eyes staring up at her father.

"To sleep?" Danny grunted, painfully leaning forward to remove his shoes. "You want me to sleep? I just got here. You don't want to talk to your father?"

Grace shrugged. She went over to stand by her father. "If it makes you better. Then you can go back to work and show Uncle Steve."

"'Show Uncle Steve?' I don't know what that means. Show him what?"

Grace sighed. She shrugged. "Nevermind." She said.

"Grace." Danny tried to reach his daughter's face. "What's up, huh?"

Danny's cell phone rang. Grace dove for it, where it lay on the bed, so as to not answer her father's question.

"Leave it, Grace-"

It was too late. Grace smirked at the Caller ID, then easily typed in her father's passcode and greeted her cousin on the other end.

"This is Grace." She listened for a little, smiled, and then put the phone on speaker. Danny slowly adjusted the pillow and gingerly swung his legs onto the bed. Meanwhile, Eric was speaking a mile a minute.

"I know he said to stay here, and all, so I don't 'slow his healing process,' but, c'mon, Grace, I think we both know Uncle D needs his favorite nephew. I'm pr-"

"Hey. Schmuck. Calm down. You're already making my head hurt." Danny cut in. "You're also not my favorite nephew."

"Uncle D!" Eric was indeed on the phone, and was overjoyed to hear his uncle on the other end. "Alive!"

"Alive." Danny sighed.

Eric was adamant to know how his uncle had been treated by the good people of Oahu. He had, after all, played a major role in ridding the city of a major drug epidemic. And he had saved the life of arguably the most important law enforcer in Oahu. The hospital must have been packed with visitors for Danny, right?

"Nope." Grace answered first, before Danny could think of a tactful way to respond.

"No, what?"

Grace flushed. "Danno's only visitors were Charlie and I."

There was a pause. Danny looked down.

"I don't get it." Eric was slow to understand.

"It's so not fair." Grace huffed. "Every last person in Oahu sent cards and flowers to Uncle Steve. There was nothing for Dad."

Dad. She had started calling him that, now that she was older. Danny didn't know how he felt about it.

"Hold up, not even like one of those fruit baskets?" Eric was growing as agitated as his cousin. "Or just one big pineapple? That's symbolic or something, right?"

"All right, don't think too hard about it." Danny sighed. He was not surprised by Eric's disgruntlement, but looking at his daughter now, he could see that she was really upset. "Grace-"

"It's not fair." Grace complained before Danny could say anything to her.

"Yeah, Uncle D, what gives?" Eric countered. "They don't want to give any credit to a guy from Jersey?"

" _That's_ it." Danny rolled his eyes. "Listen, I'm fine. Let's forget about it. Eric, I don't want you worrying anyone back in Jersey."

"Too late for that, Unc-"

"Has Uncle Steve even texted you?" Grace interrupted, her eyes narrowed. Danny looked at his daughter, startled.

"I don't want you mad at Uncle Steve." Danny was involuntarily defensive. He didn't even think about what he was saying. "This isn't his fault."

"But _has_ he?"

Danny was silent for a moment before he gave a half-hearted shrug. "No. No, he hasn't. But he's been at the hospital-"

"This is so stupid." Grace sighed. She ran a hand through her hair and sat back in the chair she had carried upstairs and placed stalwartly next to his father. On the other end, Eric muttered something unintelligent. Danny recognized with a pang of flattery that his daughter and nephew were pouting on his behalf, and were perhaps the only two to actually be upset about his treatment.

"Look, I appreciate the rain clouds you two have conjured up." Danny started.

"Uncle D, I think you-"

"You've done enough thinking for today, bud. Take it easy. Sit this one out." Danny rolled his eyes. "It's over. I'm home. I'm...I'm in _a_ home."

"He's staying with us." Grace said. "With Mom and Charlie and Stan and I."

"You're _what_?" Eric's laugh filled the room from the speaker of Danny's phone. "Ma, you're not going to believe this!" Eric called suddenly, and Danny could hear his sister somewhere further away, asking Eric what he was rambling about. Eric quickly filled her in. From Oahu, Grace's eyes widened, and she fixed her father with a sheepish look. Danny would definitely not be able to sleep now.

* * *

Captain Lou Grover stood in the living room of the Marker home. Keola's foster mother sat on the couch across from him, sipping coffee and staring blankly in front of her as Lou explained the events that had transpired. About the ambiguous murder of their foster son and of his recovering boyfriend who was equally as confused as to any motive. About the suspect who was identified as a woman and not much else.

"Ma'am." Lou looked at the woman. She flinched at his exasperated tone and looked up at him.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me." She set down her coffee. "Sit down, please. Or do you have much time? I know you must be so busy. With your boss recovering and all. Please do wish the commander well for me."

"Well, I'm sure he'd thank you in person if he could. Thank you." Lou took a seat. "Is your husband home, ma'am?"

"Oh, yes." She nodded. "Yes, he's here. He's on his way in. He just had to finish something in the backyard."

Sure enough, not long after this was said, a tall, blond man entered the room. His eyes were red, and his hands scratched and dirty. He glanced first at his wife and then at Lou.

"You're probably looking at my hands." He said sheepishly. "I was pulling weeds. Yardwork helps me clear my head. You have a garden?"

"Hell no." Lou scoffed. "Now, my wife, _she_ has a garden, but I don't have time for yardwork."

"I can imagine." The man sat on the couch next to his wife and put his hand on her knee. She did not seem to mind the state of his hand. "5-0 did Oahu a great service. We sure hope your two guys feel better soon."

"You and the rest of us." Lou said. "I'll pass the message along." He paused, pulling out his notepad. "Your wife tells me you don't have much information for me." 

"Unfortunately, no." The husband shook his head. "Keola was definitely a…a dark-horse type. He made his own meals, washed his own clothes, and paid for his own car. He never spoke to us, really. Still." He looked down. "Still."

"And his biological parents?"

The wife spoke. "His father wrote him letters, but Keola never read them. He used to rip them up, but I think he just ignored the last few letters."

"And his mother."

"His mother. She called him constantly, but Keola never answered her calls." The mother said with a soft sigh.

"Why?" 

"We don't know." The father said. "After Keola's father went to prison, his mother was very depressed. She…I don't know, she didn't pay much attention to Keola after that. We think now she's realizing her mistakes, something to that affect. Clearly, Keola wanted nothing to do with her, or his father."

"The _only_ person Keola really spoke to was Makoa. Makoa was his only confidant." Keola's foster mother remembered. "Makoa is such a sweet boy. We always thought Keola was a bad influence on him. We even…" The foster mother sat back, smiling at the memory, "we even sat Makoa down one evening and begged him to find someone else. But he was in love. His first real love, you know? Makoa thought Keola could move mountains."

"Keola loved that." The father shook his head. "That blind loyalty. Makoa never asked him a damn thing about his life. If Keola told him, he told him. If not, then Makoa didn't ask."

"So Makoa may know even less about Keola than you do." Lou summed up frankly. "Because, clearly, something was going on with Keola that no one else knew about. Am I right?"

"Yes, that's most likely correct." The father nodded.

"To me, it sounds like Keola was using Makoa, or at least taking advantage of him." Lou stated. He looked at the foster parents. "He took advantage of you two and he took advantage of his younger boyfriend."

"He didn't take advantage of us." Keola's foster mother shook her head. "He was always secretive. He was just a secretive boy. He had his life and we had our lives. Same with Makoa."

"That's not how I remember relationships usually panning out."

"You didn't know him, captain." The mother was insistent. "Keola may have been ungrateful, but he wasn't using our affection for anything."

"But you don't know why anyone would want to kill him."

"No."

"He never said anything to you about being in danger, or feeling scared, or fighting with Makoa."

"No."

"So, ma'am, he did take advantage of your loyalty."

"Captain Grover." The husband looked at Lou, his jaw set. "I'm not sure I understand this line of questioning."

Lou paused. He had done it again, hadn't he? "I'm sorry." He sighed.

"You're worried about your commander." The mother put in gently. "I understand." Her husband seemed less convinced. The mother spoke again, anyway. "You should go check on him."

"I thank you." Lou stood. "What I said came out wrong. I'm just trying to understand who would want to kill a kid."

"Probably the same type of people who would bring illegal drugs to our great city." The father stood as well and half-heartedly shook the captain's hand. "Your questioning wasn't too off, Captain Grover. Keola was hardly ever home. I reckon he was up to far more than he let on."

Lou nodded. "Please understand we will try our absolute best to find out who would kill your son."

The father's eyes grew red again. "Thank you." He whispered.


	5. More Questions than Answers

**The Recovery Period**

 **Chapter Five**

 **A/n: The next chapter will feature much Williams family goodness. Thanks so much for the continued support!**

* * *

As the great exhaustion of surgery and trauma began to inch away from Steve, Steve became restless. In the moments in which Steve possessed a fleeting sort of energy, he would will himself out of bed. Sometimes all he could do was stand, one hand clutching his side and the other holding on to the edge of his bed. At his best moments, he would trudge to the bathroom. At his worst moments, when even standing was difficult, Steve would simply sit up in bed and take the tablet Lou had left him. The screen was too bright and it hurt his eyes, but without fail, Steve returned to the same website every time he held the tablet.

His first search, his first search as soon as Lou had dropped off the tablet had been his partner's name. _Detective_ _Danny Williams._ For good measure he added: _plane crash._ That was when he discovered that the local news channel had uploaded the radio transmission from the crash onto their website. The title of the article: "5-0 Leader Nearly Dies – Team Scrambles to Save Lt. Commander McGarrett" _._

Steve pressed play on the audio file without stopping to think about the slew of memories that would follow. What he had heard after that had been gut-wrenching.

With Danny gone, Steve felt a vast emptiness surround him even in the overcrowded hospital. Despite countless visits from Lou, Kono, Chin, and others, Steve wanted desperately to leave. He needed to find Danny. It didn't help that Steve was also beginning to remember things he said to Danny while under the effects of his heavy medicinal dosage.

 _I'm sure your son will grow up to hate you just as much as I do._

This line had floated back to Steve's consciousness while Lou was visiting him. He had brought over food from Kamekona's for Steve – his first real meal in ages – and although Steve's appetite was small and he ate gingerly, he was grateful.

"Don't worry about all that wacked-up shit you said when you first came out of surgery, okay, McGarrett?" Lou was saying, hardly paying attention to Steve as he ate. "We all say things when we're practically still under. Just ask my girl after wisdom teeth surgery." He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Hopefully the son won't be as talkative."

 _Charlie._ Steve's words had reappeared with a vengeance. Steve remembered Danny's shocked face and wide eyes that quickly narrowed in heated resentment. He remembered how Danny had turned away and drawn the curtain, ignoring Steve for the rest of the night by feigning sleep.

"McGarrett." Lou said his name like it was the answer to a question, although he was actually wondering what his boss was doing, staring wide-eyed at the empty bed next to him.

"But I did say something, didn't I?" Steve was still staring at the bed. "I must have said something. That's why Danny left."

Lou was silent. "Danny shouldn't have left you."

"But maybe it was my fault?" Steve responded quickly.

"No." Lou shook his head. "You're recovering. You can't be blamed for the medicine they're pumping through you."

"Danny's recovering too." Steve said. "You've heard from him?"

"No. Nothing." Lou scowled. "We've all been so goddamned busy with these cases that even if he had tried to contact one of us—"

"Cases?"

"Oh yeah, man." Lou huffed. "With you two gone we're doing all the damn work ourselves. Main priority right now is that boy who was murdered on the beach a few nights ago. I suggested we work on something a little clearer – one of our other assignments that may be more cut-and-dry, but no luck. Chin is determined to solve this case, and soon."

"But Chin's busy."

"Busy." Lou repeated. "Yeah, he's busy, all right. He just adopted a little girl and is trying to raise her on his own. With no experience whatsoever."

"Sounds like he could use your help." Steve put in evenly. "You and Danny, when Danny feels better. He could use you two."

"Yeah." Lou muttered, looking down at his empty container. "All right, man, you need anything else? I better get going."

"Where did you put all the mail?" Steve asked. "You know, the cards that were here."

"Kono didn't want to distract you, so she took them back to your place." Lou shrugged, standing up. "Don't worry, once you're all well again you can write thank you notes for weeks."

"But you don't think that's unfair?" Steve asked. "That I had all the cards and Danny had nothing?"

Lou stared at Steve. "Listen, man…" he started. "I know he's ohana and all, but understand that _you're_ the boss here. You called the shots."

"He landed the plane."

 _No, no, no, don't you die on me. Don't you die on me you stupid piece of shit. Buddy. Steve. Steve. Please. Don't die. Can anyone hear me? Steve._ Danny's voice shot through Steve's mind. He closed his eyes.

"Get some sleep, man." Lou said, misinterpreting the moment. He shook his head before he left the room, before he could see Steve reach for his tablet once more.

* * *

Two miraculous events coinciding at once. Okay, one miraculous event and one predicted event. The expected occurrence: Eric Russo returned from Jersey. The miraculous event, he went straight to work. He, CSI, and 5-0 were continuing to pile in on the case of Keola's murder, particularly about the victim himself.

Keola, as Chin predicted, had created quite the ruse for himself. Keola's foster parents, friends, and even Makoa knew quite little about Keola's dealings. And Makoa, who had been so blindly in love with Keola, found the facts shocking and hard to believe. In fact, at first, Makoa openly denied Chin's words.

Keola had worked as a busboy for a fancy casino on the tip of the island during high school. This Makoa knew. When Keola dropped out of high school, however, he went to his boss and asked for a better job, something he could do for more pay. Keola was tall, he was strong, and he wasn't a haole. His boss trusted him for these reasons, and knew most haole tourists who tried to swindle the casino would be intimidated by a man of Keola's stature and resolve. Keola was quickly hired as the casino's muscle. He worked under the guidance of another man, who eventually went to Chin to tell him this information after reading about Keola's death in the paper. He had no information on the killer herself, but he did say Keola was gaining a reputation. He won back debts like nobody's business. No one knew he was practically a kid. And no one knew he was gay.

"Why did he keep me a secret?" Makoa had asked Chin, one day removed from the hospital and recovering at home. "No, no, why did he keep all of _that_ a secret? He would have told me."

"He was protecting you." Chin answered. "If I had to take a guess, I would say he was protecting you. That means he cared about you very much."

"Don't do that." Makoa spat. "Don't patronize me. I know what it means."

"I understand you're upset. You thought you knew your boyfriend." Chin started. "We all keep secrets."

"No…No, I just…" Makoa rubbed his shoulder, cringing at the pain from his healing wound. It was the middle of the afternoon and he was lying on the couch. A soccer game was on softly in the background. Makoa wasn't watching. It was on for effect. His mother was in the living room, typing something on the computer and pretending not to look over at her son every few minutes.

"Did you know he was employed?" Chin asked.

"Yes." Makoa nodded. "I knew he was at the casino. I thought he just cleaned the tables. He never mentioned anything about—"

The front door opened then. Makoa's younger brother, Lono, pushed the door open with his rear, tugging two bags with both hands through the door. He was in uniform again. It was his turn to wash the team's dirty uniforms. A time-held tradition at his school. As a freshman, he was forced to wash the clothes more than most.

The door opened loudly, and then Lono dropped the soccer ball that was nestled between the crook of his elbow and his chest. And he set down one of the bags – it fell with a _thud_ – to go after the rolling ball. The door creaked open further. There was a honk from the car outside. Lono and Makoa's father, honking at Lono to close the door and move the bags.

"Fuck, Lono, get a hold of yourself!" Makoa snapped. "What the fuck are you doing? Can't you do anything right?"

Their mother closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. Lono stopped dead, turning to face his brother. His eyes flickered over to notice Chin, and Lono flushed deep red. Chin nodded at him reassuringly, but Lono had already looked away at that point, rushing to grab the bags and close the door and pick up the ball and fix everything for his brother. Afterwards he bypassed his usual trip to the kitchen and went straight to his room. By the time Chin turned back to Makoa once more, he was struggling to stand up, clearly embarrassed by what he had said.

"I'm tired, Lieutenant Kelly." Makoa whispered.

"Of course." Chin nodded. He checked his watch. It was almost time to pick up Sara. And he wanted to check on Steve. And Danny. Eric told him to see Danny.

Yes, Chin noted as he watched Makoa walk slowly away, Chin understood the feeling of being overwhelmed.


	6. Morale is Low

**The Recovery Period**

 **Chapter Six**

* * *

Chin wanted desperately to make things better. "Things," in the general sense. Chin wanted to fix everything. He had always felt this way. He was raised with compassion and logic, and this was how Chin lived, even now, so many years removed from his childhood.

Ever since 5-0 was formed, Chin and Danny had been the ones to check in on the families of victims after the cases were closed. Chin had been the one to initially suggest the idea to Danny. Steve had mentioned something about how good Danny was with the children of victims. Chin soon observed this himself. It was strange to see this man Chin barely knew, this man whom Chin had heard snippets of things about from his old colleagues at the police department (the ones that spoke to him, still), this man who was supposedly obsessed with work and justice and angry at the world that did not respect these things, stop to make a senseless joke to a child reeling from a senseless act. Chin, for all of his empathy and kindness, did not know that he could do the same. Chin, instead, would offer a sad look and a hug – and he meant it, of course – but Danny would make the child laugh, whereas Chin only made the child realize what a horrible tragedy had occurred.

Perhaps Chin was too hard on himself. But he definitely could use some of Danny's advice now, as he sat across from his very silent niece at a diner that was equally silent.

The paperwork was signed. Everything was completed. All Chin had to do was take his niece home, show her her new bedroom, and officially welcome her into his life. But Chin chickened out at the last minute, and he asked if Sara was hungry, and if she might like to get some pie and ice cream, despite the time nearing nine at night. Was it past her bedtime? Did Chin even know her bedtime? Was this up to him to decide, now?

 _Steve McGarrett: Did you talk to Danny?_

Chin stopped focusing on the melting ice cream on Sara's plate and checked his phone.

 _Chin Ho Kelly: I should, shouldn't I?_

 _Steve: He's raised a child on his own._

Chin nodded in response even though Steve could not see this. Deep in his gut, however, Chin did not know how true this statement was. At the worst of Danny and Rachel's fighting, Danny was not allowed to see Grace at all. At their best moments, Danny was allowed to see Grace every other weekend. So, yes and no. Steve's reassuring text did not help quell the feeling of unease sitting at the bottom of Chin's stomach.

 _Chin: I'll call him tomorrow. Thanks for the reminder. Get some sleep and feel better soon. We all miss you two._

Chin looked up at Sara once more. She was looking at him.

"That was your Uncle Steve on the phone." Chin explained, smiling gently at her. "Do you remember Uncle Steve? He works with me."

Sara whispered something.

"Sorry, I didn't quite hear that." Chin leaned forward. Sara leaned back.

"The tall one with the dark hair?" She asked.

"Yes." Chin nodded. "Very good. That's Steve."

Sara nodded. She smiled very softly at Chin, and made a show of eating the last bit of crust on her blueberry pie. She had waited too long on the ice cream, which now puddled on the plate, but she did not seem to notice.

"How are you feeling right now, Sara?" Chin asked. He felt it was futile to flippantly ask _everything okay?_ when, no, clearly everything was not okay. So he focused on the present.

"Can we go home?" She asked quietly.

"You want to go home?" Chin repeated. "Of course we can go home."

Sara nodded.

"I spent two whole days fixing up the house just for you." Chin put in, trying desperately to emulate Danny's special sense of humor with children on cases. "And I had a lot to clean. Did I ever tell you sometimes I'm a little messy? You have to make sure I put all of our dishes away, okay?"

What the hell? Was that supposed to be funny? The promise of chores to come? God, he was so inexperienced. But Sara smiled anyway.

"You're not very messy, Uncle Chin." She assured him, taking his hand timidly as they got up to leave the diner.

* * *

To the surprise of Kono, Lou, and Chin, Eric's return from vacation was actual a welcome event. The three were working long hours, and were quickly tiring. Lou had to bail when his wife called him – Samantha needed help with something Renee was just not sure of. And Chin. Oh Chin. Chin was knee-deep in unclehood now masked as fatherhood. So Kono stayed at headquarters. Kono contacted the families of victims and looked up leads for the Keola murder and drank lots and lots of coffee. So much coffee that she was almost a match for the energetic Eric Russo, when he bounded into 5-0's headquarters.

"Officer Kalakaua, long time no see!" Eric sat in the chair opposite Kono's desk, the large thing covering her jittery legs.

"Eric." Kono smiled despite herself. "How's it?"

"Oh, grand. Grand, grand, grand." Eric shrugged. "Say, listen, you want to know what I think?"

"About the case?" Kono asked. "About evidence? About any lead?"

"No, no, not that stuff." Eric waved away the thought. "About Uncle Danny."

Kono emitted a soft groan and put her head in her hands.

"I was just over at Aunt Rachel's – you know, he's staying there and all – and morale is pretty low over there. I mean _low._ I mean World War One trench warfare morale is _low_."

"Eric."

"Step-Stan is working as late as physically possible so he can avoid Uncle Danny, or worse, seeing Uncle Danny with Charlie. And even though Stan is always gone Rachel still doesn't want to help out Danny, you know, just in case someone thinks she's in love with him again or something. She brings him water and tea sometimes, and brings him food and checks his temperature but that's about it. He's pretty much on his own. And Grace has all of her practices, and when she comes home she helps but Uncle Danny doesn't want her to think he's weak. And Charlie, little Charlie, you know, he plays with Uncle Danny constantly, but sometimes he's a little rough and doesn't really understand why Uncle Danny is like in pain and all of that stuff and just…So, generally, morale is-"

"-Low." Kono finished.

"He's just too damn stubborn to go back to the hospital. My ma's the same way. They get it from Nona."

Kono stood up. As long as Eric was here she wouldn't be working. Not that that mattered. The woman (supposedly) who had shot Keola had taken the gun with her, and she had also taken the shell casings. She had been thorough. Her footprints were washed away with the tide. There appeared to be no vehicle involved. The only word they could rely on was the grief-stricken bias of Makoa, Keola's young boyfriend.

"So, how you doing, officer?"

Kono looked back at Eric. He was being sincere.

"How am I?"

"Yeah. Like, how you holding up? Need anything? Need a good cry. I'm a great person to have around during the whole 'crying' thing. Trust me; the whole family is very emotive. Learned that young. Anyway, I'm headed over to the hospital to see Commander McGarrett on Uncle Danny's orders." Eric going to see Steve was as good as Danny going to see Steve. This way, Eric could relay (in his own way) certain messages. Eric could give Steve the Williams once-over, and vice versa.

"You're seeing Steve?"

"Yeah, is now a good time?" Eric shrugged. "It's not so late. He's a night-owl, right? Probably bored out of his mind. One time I-" Eric paused, looking at Kono. "But maybe you're not a night-owl?"

"What?" Kono shook her head. "No, I'm…I'm full of energy. I've had a lot of coffee."

"Tell you what." Eric stood. "I'll go see Commander McGarrett for Uncle Danny, you know, make sure everything's okay, and then I'll swing by and we can go over the evidence."

"You mean the bullets? That's it. That's practically it."

"Yeah, the bullets. Capiche?"

Kono was surprised. "Your work ethic has exponentially improved, Eric."

"Nah, I'm just glad to be back in Hawaii." Eric shrugged. "Sometimes the family is a little suffocating, know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Kono answered quietly, returning to her desk as Eric headed towards the door.

* * *

"Here, Sara, I'd like to show you something." Chin walked over to his niece, who was sitting on the living room couch, half-asleep and hugging her stuffed animal. She was watching a cartoon with the television muted. She said she liked it this way. She had seen the episode so many times that she already knew the words.

When Chin sat down on the couch, Sara sat up, leaning towards him to see what was in his hand. It was a framed photograph.

"If you'd like I can put this on the wall here, so you can see it when you walk in." Chin held the photograph proudly. "This is a very old picture. Can you believe that's me?" He pointed to the young man with the innocent smile and curly hair that went to his shoulders. He was on the beach in his swimming trunks, his arms around two siblings. One, a young woman, leaned into Chin. The other, a young man, leaned slightly away, although his smile was just as bright.

"This is your Aunt Malia. This was the first summer we began dating. We went to the beach as much as we could that summer. And here, do you know this man?"

Sara shook her head.

"No?" Chin hesitated, but pressed forward, handing the photograph to Sara. "That's your daddy, Sara. When he was very young. He always ended up at the beach when we were, even though he didn't want to swim with us. Your aunt's friend roped him into this picture. Have you seen this picture before?"

"No." Sara shook her head. "But I have some pictures of Daddy. They're at home. I…I forgot to take them with me."

"Well, that's okay." Chin said. "My friends at the police station will let us go back so you can get the rest of your things. If you'd like, we can frame your favorite pictures. Maybe you have a picture of your mommy, too? That would be nice to frame, wouldn't it?"

But Sara had already begun to cry. "I want to go home. I want Mommy back." She managed to say, clutching the frame tightly. Her mother wasn't even in the picture. She missed her mother more than ever.

Chin, befuddled, gathered Sara into his arms. He didn't know what else to do.


	7. Unlikely Conversations

**The Recovery Period**

 **Chapter Seven**

 **A/n: Finally, some more Danny and Steve scenes. The next time these two are in the same chapter together (which will be soon!), they'll actually interact! Slowly but surely. As always, please review!**

* * *

Despite all odds, that same night, Stan Edwards ventured into his guest room.

Perhaps it was because he had said no more than two words to Danny throughout Danny's entire stay at his home. Perhaps it was because while Grace, Charlie, and Rachel attended to the man, Stan was always in a different room, or working again, or simply away. Out. Removed from the situation. But this evening, after returning late from work to discover his wife checking Grace's homework, Grace watching television, and neither in a particular mood to deal with his Danny-related raincloud, Stan trudged upstairs.

Stan had to make a conscious effort to see Danny, for the man had surprisingly kept to himself. His inability to maneuver the stairs often was the root of the problem. So, Danny remained upstairs. Rachel gave him books to read, which he did, diligently. Stan also thought this seemed out of character. The hot-headed New Jersey cop, reading one of Rachel's English classics without complaint? What was next, a scheduled tea time?

This night, however, Stan heard Charlie's voice in the guest room. Perhaps this was the reason why he entered the room.

Danny was sitting up in bed, his blond hair drying from a recent shower. He wore a fading gray t-shirt with the New York Mets emblem on it and sweatpants. His legs were tucked under the covers, and spread out of the way, so the pieces of a puzzle could have room. Charlie was sprawled out as well, holding a puzzle piece in his hand, but watching his father with the pieces that were in his hand.

"Goes here, right?" Danny was saying, purposely holding up the wrong piece and sticking it near the corner crudely.

"No!" Charlie giggled, picking up the piece and handing it back to Danny. "Not there!"

"What're you talking about?" Danny was astounded. "What sort of imagination you got in there?" He lightly rapped his son's forehead. "Sounds hollow to me, I hate to tell you."

"Danno!" Charlie playfully jumped on his father. Normally, Danny would have wrestled his son, or held him up in the air, arms flailing. But the impact of his energetic son knocked the wind out of Danny. Stan, from the doorway, heard Danny's resounding _oof._ Charlie, unaware, continued to tug on his father's arms. The puzzle was stepped on in his haste.

"Charlie." Stan stepped into the room before he could stop himself. "Charlie, no."

Danny's eyes opened in surprise. Charlie stopped as well, sheepishly letting go.

"Your father's tired, Charlie. You know he's recovering." Stan spoke over the awkward silence. Danny forced a smile and touched his son's red cheek.

"Rain check, huh, bud?" Danny said. "Stan is right. Just a little tired."

"You're always tired lately." Charlie complained.

"You remember, Charlie, I was in the hospital." Danny said. He glanced at Stan briefly. "Sometimes people take a lot longer than me to get better once they leave the hospital."

But of course Charlie knew this. Charlie had been in the hospital, too, for his own illness. And Charlie had recognized Danny needed to recover from his bone marrow donation. But this was different. Danno was _here_ , and Charlie could see him whenever he wanted. Why, then, was Danny always too tried to see him, to eat with him, to play with him?

"Why aren't you better?" Charlie's eyebrows knit together. "Why can't you get better, now?"

"Charlie-" Danny and Stan spoke at the same time. Charlie realized he should not have asked the question, and this made him only more upset. Danny reached for him, but Charlie was off of the bed, and was heading towards the door.

"Hey." Stan caught Charlie, kneeling down next to him. "Charlie, if something is wrong, you need to let me know."

"Charlie, bud, I'm getting better, huh? I am. Today I was able to go down the stairs, and back up, and…and then I helped your mother with, you know, I helped with some things around the house. I'm fine! Just a little…You know, it's been a long day. Charlie, look at me, huh? Look at me."

Charlie turned around to look at his father. Stan still held on to his arms.

"I know you don't want to see me in pain, okay?" Danny swallowed. "I know I've had a few rough days, when I first got here, when I was in the hospital. But I'm better. I am. I will be better. You understand? Tomorrow. Tomorrow, we'll…we'll go somewhere, huh? Where do you want to go? You wanna go to the beach?"

"Charlie, why don't you go see what your sister is up to." Stan spoke up before Charlie had a chance. Charlie glanced at the two men hesitantly before leaving the room.

And that was it. He was gone. Danny slumped against the pillows. He ran a hand through his hair. Stan and Danny listened to the patter of Charlie's feet as he descended the staircase. Eventually, Rachel's voice could be heard, concerned and loving. Then the voices went away.

Stan stood up again. He placed his hands on his hips. He spoke after an awkward silence. "That's something I never thought I would have to do."

Danny cleared his throat. "Thanks."

Stan scoffed. "Don't."

"No, thank you." Danny shook his head. "Really." He sat up, his face still blanched. "I mean, you know we have our differences."

"Differences." Stan repeated numbly, nodding. Then, however, he closed his eyes. He rubbed his temple and groaned. "Ah, fuck. Danny. I'm trying to be civil. You saved my life, back when I got myself caught up in that bad deal. When Rachel was carjacked. You saved me. So you should…But you shot me, too, so. There goes that, right? God." Stan sighed. "You make it so tough for me to…You slept with my wife. I…I lost my son to you. Everything with Charlie is…is beyond my comprehension."

"I know-"

"Shut up." Stan let out a breathless laugh. "You don't. You weren't there when I had to tell Charlie to stop calling me 'Dad;' you didn't have to teach him to love someone else as a father."

"I didn't know he was mine for three years." Danny challenged. "Stan, how is that different?"

"It is. It's different. You gained a child. Now I'm just raising another one of your kids."

"You're not 'raising' Grace and Charlie-"

"This is the most you've been around Grace since before you and Rachel were divorced." Stan spit. "You see them on weekends. This is…this is heaven for you."

" _This_ is heaven?" This time, Danny scoffed. "This. At what point do the choirs of angels come in, huh? At what point do I get to see Joe DiMaggio, huh? I can't even see my team."

"Your team?" Stan wasn't following.

"Look, Stan, I haven't been ripe with visitors. You've been away so much, but I've been here. Alone."

"What do you mean? What about your partner?" Stan looked at Danny. "What-?"

"No." Danny shrugged. "No, nothing. I…There's a new case, I heard. And Steve. He's still at the hospital. So."

Stan was silent. He looked at Danny. "What are you saying?" he asked.

"Come again?" Danny quipped.

"W-What are you saying, Danny? That you saved the life of your partner, that you helped get rid of major drug dealers in Oahu, and no one has been around to check on you?"

"I don't know, Stanley, unless the people who are doing the checking are _invisible_ , I haven't really seen anyone."

"Well, what, do they not know you're here?" Stan was dumbfounded. "What about all the…all the things in the news about your commander, all the accolades?"

Danny thought for a moment. "I don't know. I'm tired. I am. Uh, this was a good talk, huh? We'll reconvene in the morning. Bring up some of Rachel's tea, then, okay? I'll type up the agenda."

Stan could see the moment was lost. Danny had fixed his sarcastic outer shell. His moment of vulnerability was gone. Stan, too, recovered from his previous outburst. He stood up straight and squared his shoulders.

"Get better soon, Danny." He said curtly. "For all of our sakes."

* * *

It was nearly nine o'clock at night by the time Eric Russo managed to make his way to Steve McGarrett's hospital room.

Had Eric visited the commander before now, he would have noticed how the hospital room had changed in the days following Danny's absence. The elaborately made bouquets and flowers had been moved to the corner of the room, the cards in boxes and the flowers slowly dying in an assortment of vases. The balloons were deflated. The room was impeccably clean. And empty. Eric was told to wait for Steve, who was in physical therapy. Steve's cot had been furnished with new sheets. On the nightstand lay Steve's watch, phone, and a tablet. Eric pressed the power button on Steve's phone. _Six unread emails. Seven texts. Three missed calls. Two voicemails._

Eric thought back to his uncle, alone and recovering. How many calls had he missed? How many calls was Danny expecting?

"E."

Steve was at the door, wiping sweat from his brow. A nurse was helping him back to his bed.

"Oh, hey, Commander McGarrett." Eric shuffled away from the bed so Steve could lay back down. He did so with creaking muscles.

"Good to see you, E." Steve grunted. "Didn't expect you."

"Yeah, just thought I'd show up, see what was happening." Eric shrugged casually.

"How's Danny?" Steve looked at Eric directly.

"Yeah, Uncle D." Eric put his hands in his pockets. "Well, you know, recovering. Not as quickly as you. You know, he doesn't have physical therapy or anything, where he is. He sleeps a lot, which he's never done in his life, so, hindsight, this is good. Still. You know, I mean…"

"He's still in pain?" Steve asked.

"Pain?" Eric repeated. "He's worried sick about you having part of his liver."

"Physically, E. I mean physically." Steve retorted.

"You could always ask him yourself." Eric said. "Call him. Thank him. You know, if a holiday's coming up, drop a line-"

"Eric." Steve held up his hand. "Eric, I…I want you to know-"

"Can I tell you a story?" Eric interrupted. "It's a quick one, don't worry. Can I?" He glanced briefly at Steve, but didn't wait for an answer. He was clearly nervous. "Okay. When my ma was pregnant with my kid brother, she got really sick. Like, _sick_ , you know, throwing up all the time. I was only four. My dad was with me, or working, so my ma was really alone. When Uncle D found out, he didn't leave her side. He wouldn't. He took off work. Rachel didn't know where he was. He made sure Ma was taken care of. And later, when my brother was born, you know, Ma was so grateful. And after Mattie died, my family was so upset, with how things happened. Ma, too, initially. But afterwards, she trusted Uncle D. She believed him. She was loyal to him. And that meant so much to Uncle D, you know. That's all he wants. He just wants loyalty. And, uh, I think you should call him." Eric looked down. "You're the best friend he's ever had, Commander McGarrett. All he wants is loyalty. I don't know what happened when I was back in Jersey, but he must not have been too happy. I never thought he would leave you." Eric shrugged.

"Is Danny still at Rachel's house?" Steve did not speak for a long time, but when he did, his voice was direct.

"Yeah. I mean, yeah, where else could he possible be?" Eric was disgruntled. He shifted his weight onto the other leg. His hands had come out of his pockets to run through his hair in a true Williams move. "He's a glorified – recovering – couch potato."

"Okay, then. Let's go." Steve began to get out of his bed. The nurse had long since left the room. He gestured for Eric to come over and help him. "E. C'mon. Let's go."

"Go? Go where? To Uncle D's own private purgatory?" Eric scoffed. "Uh-huh, commander, I've been there once already today. Auntie Rach's husband ain't too fond of me, as you may have guessed, and I-"

"I'm not asking for your opinion, E." Steve snapped. He had gotten used to the pain, ever since his medication was decreased on his request, but it still hurt him to make sudden movements. Which was why he needed Eric's help. "Captain Grover brought me some extra clothes. They're by the cards. Help me get out of this hospital gown."

"Captain Grover brought you – of course he did." Eric threw up his hands, but went towards the bag, anyway. "Just what do you think you're going to do, when you get to Auntie Rach's place, huh? Bake Uncle D some cookies? And then what, just go home?"

"No." Steve said. "No, first, I'm going to make things right between me and Danny."

"Sure, sure-"

"-And then I'm going to make sure he has someone looking after him." Steve said. "And I'm not going to leave until he's better."

"Or until you pass out." Eric muttered under his breath before turning around with a bright smile and handing Steve a crewneck sweatshirt. "Great idea, commander. What could go wrong, huh?"


	8. Find Your Own Way Home

**The Recovery Period**

 **Chapter Eight**

 **A/n: Wow, two updates in one day! I'm just as surprised as you are.**

* * *

Chin dreamt of his father for the first time in a year early the next morning, when it was still dark and everything seemed so far away. His father was in Chin's kitchen, preparing a sumptuous dinner. Sara was standing on a step stool to reach the counter, but she dutifully handed him eggs to crack. And Chin, just a teenager in his dream, with hair to his shoulders and swim trunks on, helped make sure the rice was just right. Malia would be coming over, soon. He wanted everything to be perfect. His father understood this. Wasn't that why he had called over Kono to help? Then, slowly, Chin realized Sara was not there at all. In fact, Kono was standing on the step stool, although she was much too tall for it. This all seemed so strange to Chin. He called out for Sara but no one answered, and finally, as Chin began to back away from the kitchen in frustrated confusion, a great swooping blackness washed over him, and he heard a noise in the distance, a repetitive knocking of sorts—

With a start, Chin woke up, the light from the summer sun already pouring into his room. He let out a breath. What a dream. Rubbing the back of his neck, Chin sat up and reached for his watch. It was 6:50 in the morning. Had he not set an alarm? He had been distracted last night, with Sara.

Sara.

The knocking from his dream returned with soft vigor. So it had been real. Chin quickly threw on a t-shirt and left his bed.

Indeed, young Sara was standing outside of his door, her hair mused and pajamas still on.

"Well, good morning." Chin smiled, kneeling down to be level with his niece. "I'm sorry, I should have left the door open. Everything okay?"

She nodded. "Uncle Chin," she said quietly, "I would like to go to school. Can you take me to school?"

"To school?" Chin rubbed the back of his neck. "Your teachers said you could take as much time as you need at home. Are you sure?"

She nodded again. "Can I have some breakfast and then go to school and then go home and get my things?"

"You have the whole day planned, don't you?" Chin admired Sara. He hoped this meant she was bouncing back – as much as she could. Her tears last night had scared them both.

Later, during breakfast, the prospect of school only seemed to further Sara's raised mood. She explained to Chin in between bites of cereal that she was learning about the rainforest. Chin nodded with interest, although he was somewhat distracted by an email from Lou. It was a write-up on his meeting with Keola's foster parents, all about the father's scratched hands and Keola's absent biological parents – his incarcerated father and absent mother. Lou explained his own speculations that Keola had profited off of the blind naïveté of his foster parents and younger boyfriend. Clearly, someone wanted Keola dead. Possibly Makoa, too. And the only person with an inkling why may have been Keola.

"Uncle Chin?" Sara's voice brought Chin back to reality.

"Sorry, Sara." Chin turned off his tablet. "Just work. Everything okay?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded. "It's almost time to go."

"Oh?" Chin looked at his watch. "When does school start?"

"Eight." She answered evenly.

"Eight?" Chin took one last gulp of coffee. "Okay. I'd like to meet your teacher and explain some things before school starts. Sound good?"

"And after school I can go home?"

"Of course." Chin nodded. "I'll bring some boxes."

"Okay." Sara smiled softly. "I'll get my backpack."

* * *

The death of Keola had taken a surprising toll on Lono, Makoa's little brother. Part of it was because Lono did not like to see his older brother so miserable and depressed. Makoa stayed in his room most of the day. He came out for dinner and then receded back to his room. His parents didn't know what to do. Neither did Lono. Eventually, Makoa's mother insisted Makoa take Lono to one of Lono's soccer games.

As Lono frantically rushed to the locker room – Makoa had forgotten and they were nearly late – Makoa sat down awkwardly in an available bleacher seat. He was next to a group of underclassmen high school girls. He didn't recognize any of them, which was a relief. Some seemed to recognize his face from the papers, however, or the television or social media or just around the high school last year. One in particular, a young girl with brown hair, kept her gaze fixed on Makoa. When, upon feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack, Makoa turned around to glare at the girl, she wasn't looking at him anymore and was focused on the game.

Lono, despite his age, was the star forward for the team. According to his parents, Lono was exceptional. Makoa had always been too busy to attend the games, especially once he and Keola began dating. Makoa spent every waking moment with Keola, in some shape or form. But he was good, and clearly dominated the play, according to Lono's coach. Today, however, Lono was distracted. The other team was clearly better this time around.

After Lono's second goal attempt hit the post, Lono yelled in frustration, sliding against the grass in his attempt.

"What's wrong with Lono?" One of the girls, a blonde, asked her friends. "He's usually not like this."

"I don't get it." Another said. "This has, like, never happened."

"He's been so quiet in class lately." A third said. "Haven't you noticed?"

"Look." It was the girl with the brown hair. "Coach is taking him out."

Makoa looked back towards the field. Indeed, the coach was calling Lono over to him. They spoke, somewhat heatedly, and then Lono was subbed out. The rest of the game was incredibly slow.

Afterwards, the fans dispersed on their own time. Many stayed to wait for their sons. Some just stayed to catch up with one another. Makoa waited for Lono, who had yet to return from the locker room. So Makoa sat, staring in front of him. He didn't check his phone. Why should he? All of the texts he received nowadays were laced with pity. Makoa couldn't stand it.

It was during this moment of boredom that Makoa sensed someone was watching him. He looked to his right, past the group of girls, and that's when he saw her.

Her. Her, the woman who had shot him. The woman who had killed Keola.

Enraged and suddenly in shock, Makoa stood up. Their eyes connected, and then the woman began to run. Perhaps she sensed Makoa's anger. She was right to run away, because Makoa was going to kill her. Without hesitation, Makoa ran after the woman, pushing past the high school girls in his way.

"Hey!" The blonde girl yelled. "Watch it!"

"Where is he going?" The girl with the brown hair asked. She stood back up, staring after Makoa. "Who was that woman?"

"Give it a rest, Grace," the blonde girl sighed. "Probably just his ex-girlfriend."

"Sadie, that's Makoa." Grace Williams shook her head. "That's Lono's brother. The one whose boyfriend was just murdered?"

"Really?" Sadie's eyes widened.

"Hey," Lono was trudging towards them, still in uniform. His sports bag was slung over his shoulder. He was looking for Makoa and had overheard his classmates speaking about him. "What were you just saying?"

"Your brother just ran after some woman." Grace said. She wasn't sure if Lono knew who she was, but they had had biology class together first semester.

"What?" Lono tensed, the frustration from the game instantly melting away. "What do you mean?"

"Like, he just charged at this woman!" Sadie said. "He looked like he wanted to kill her."

"They went that way." Grace put in. Lono instantly dropped his bag and water bottle and rushed down the bleachers and after his brother, whom he could barely make out in the parking lot.

"What do we do?" One of the girls asked, as they watched Lono sprint away. "Something's clearly wrong."

Grace stared at the soccer player's discarded bag.

"Grace, what do we do?" Sadie asked.

"I'll call my uncle." Grace responded, pulling out her phone.

* * *

Makoa chased the woman as much as he could, but she was too fast and he was still recovering. By the time he reached the parking lot, she had hopped in a truck and sped off.

"Fuck! Come back!" Makoa screamed, bending down in the parking lot with a cringe. He grabbed his shoulder in pain, breathing heavily. He could hear footsteps behind him. He didn't know who. It didn't matter. Makoa took out his car keys. He was going after his boyfriend's killer.

"Makoa!" It was in fact Lono who was running behind Makoa. Makoa hesitated only slightly before unlocking his car. "Makoa!" Lono called out again, finally reaching him. He was out of breath. "What is it?" he asked worriedly.

"Get out of my way." Makoa said.

"Mak-"

"Get the fuck out of my way!" Makoa snapped, throwing open the car door and getting in the driver's seat. "Find your own way home."

"Is that her?" Lono asked between deep exhales. "Makoa, was that the person who killed Keola? Makoa!"

But Makoa had already roared away, his tires screeching against the asphalt.


	9. A Growing Household

The Recovery Period: Chapter Nine

 **A/n: *writes another chapter* *dreams that one of these plotlines will be in a season seven episode* *appreciates your reviews***

* * *

By the time Lono returned to the bleachers to collect his bag, the field was empty. Everyone had gone home, either ignoring the occurrence or whispering loudly as they passed Lono, who stood dumbly in the parking lot, breathing heavily and staring out at the stretch of road from where his brother had disappeared.

Disappointed, Lono did not look up from the cool, chrome-colored bleachers to see that Grace Williams was still sitting near his discarded bag, keeping vigil. Sitting next to her was a woman Lono did not recognize. He sheepishly went over to them. Grace handed him his bag silently, with a soft smile.

"Thanks." Lono said, sitting down next to her. He put his head in his hands and let out a deep breath. He lifted his head again to glance at the girl next to him.

"You're Grace, right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I've seen you at school before." He said.

"This is my mom." Grace said, so as to explain the presence of Rachel. Rachel placed a hand on Lono's knee.

"Lono, Grace called a colleague of her father's, Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly. He's part of the 5-0 taskforce." Rachel explained.

"I've met him." Lono said. "He's the, uh, he's the lead investigator in my brother's boyfriend's murder. I think he is, anyway."

"He is." Rachel took off her sunglasses. "He'll be over here soon. He'll look around. I've come to pick up Grace. Is there someone who is coming to take you home?"

"No." Lono sighed. "No, my brother was supposed to."

Grace looked at her mother, who was already standing up.

"We'd be happy to take you home. Would you like to ride with us?"

Lono looked at Grace quickly before nodding. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Thanks. I'm sorry I'm…" he looked down at himself. He was sweaty, his uniform was dirty, and he had not even had time to shower or change after the game. He shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's not a problem." Rachel smiled reassuringly at Lono. "The important thing is to get you home safe, right, Grace?"

Grace nodded, and as the three started towards Rachel's Mercedes, Grace once again glanced at Lono. His dark eyes were downcast, staring at his shoes. The knuckles on the hand that strongly clutched his bag were white.

"Was that the suspect?" She whispered, despite her nervousness. Lono seemed surprised by the question, looking at her quickly.

"Who?"

"The woman." Grace persisted. "The one your brother chased."

Lono looked back down. "I don't know." He admitted. "I think so."

* * *

"You ready?"

"I'm ready."

"Okay, well, no disrespect, but last time you said you were ready you-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, E."

Steve, despite his best intentions, did not end up making it to Rachel's home that night. Soon after sneaking down the stairs with Eric and into the kid's beat up car, he had collapsed. He remembered flashes from the car ride, and then, the next time he woke up, he was in an unfamiliar bed.

Eric had still been with him. He was rustling around in a nearby bathroom. Steve could hear the soft drone of a television in another room, and the sound seemed so natural in this place, and that was when Steve realized he was at Danny's place.

"E." Steve cleared his throat, rusting under the covers. He was still wearing the black hoodie and gray sweats from last night. His tennis shoes were still on. But here he was, asleep in his partner's bed. Danny had not been home in a while, yet Steve still caught whiffs of Danny's shampoo. His aftershave. All of the scents that made Danny Danny. Steve felt, at this moment, an overwhelming sense of guilt. Above all, he missed his partner with a vigor he had not yet felt. He missed the wisecracks and soft smiles and stupid, stupid texts (none of which he had received lately). He missed waking up at the hospital completely at ease knowing that Danny was right next to him, waiting for him to wake up so they could continue their previous conversation (argument) and complain about the food to extended lengths just to see Steve smile. Despite his pain. Despite the trauma. Despite everything. He missed the Danny's classic characteristics, some of which had clearly been passed down to Eric Russo. In spite of the fact that the uncle often regarded the nephew as a nuisance, Steve had been with Danny the day Stella had called to say Eric would be moving to Hawaii. He had been, albeit with repressed emotions, overjoyed.

"Eric." Steve said again. He stood up – his back cursed him – and left Danny's bed. "Eric."

The kid was wearing headphones. Steve had to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"Woah!" Eric whirled around, not expecting Steve to be awake, or _up_ , for that matter.

"What happened?" Steve asked exasperatedly. "Why am I here?"

"Uh, somewhat of a long story. I called your doc-"

"You called my…" Steve sighed. "Eric-"

"Now hold up, Commander McG!" Eric interrupted. "After I explained what was supposed to go down, and used the good 5-0 name, he only said a few choice words and sent me on my way. Anyway, he seemed to think you were dehydrated or something. You conked out before we could get to Auntie Rach's." He shrugged. "So, you know, I thought I'd just take you to here. We could both get some sleep." When he noticed Steve was not quite catching on, Eric reached into the duffel bag on the bathroom counter and tossed him a lukewarm water bottle. "You'll probably need that."

"You realize you're still taking me to see Danny, right?"

"Oh yeah, commander, no problem." Eric said quickly. "Understood. Aunt Rach just texted me to bring some things for Uncle D, is all. Almost done. Could you do me a solid and hand me the book on Uncle D's nightstand?"

A book on his nightstand. Steve almost laughed at this. Just when he thought he had Danny pegged down.

But, to no one's surprise, Danny was reading the biography of Frank Sinatra. Steve picked up the book. Danny was nearly finished.

"E, when does Danny ever get the chance to read?" Steve called. From the bathroom, Eric scoffed.

"My ma gave that book to Uncle D two years ago." Steve could hear the sound of the duffel bag being zipped shut. "Thought, you know, since Sinatra went to the other end of the country, and so did Uncle D, there was some sort of connection. Wanted to make sure Uncle D didn't forget Jersey."

Steve nodded. "Looks like he appreciated the gift."

"Uncle D never read much." Eric shrugged, emerging from the bathroom. The duffel bag was slung over his shoulder. "Never gave himself time. Too busy worrying about everyone else."

Steve handed the book to Eric. "Yeah."

"So, you about ready to bust this joint?" Eric asked.

"Let me see a toothbrush, first."

Now, standing outside Rachel's door, Eric shifted uncomfortably.

"You're not going to tell Uncle D about you using his toothbrush, right?" Eric said.

Steve scoffed. "No, of course not."

"Okay, good, because you know he would kill me. I mean, he would kill you, me, and himself. I'm serious. The guy does not like germs."

"Relax, E." Steve hissed. He could hear footsteps, and saw Stan's silhouette.

"I just want you to be aware of the consequences-"

The door opened. Stan Edwards stared at a worse-for-wear Steve McGarett and Eric Russo.

"Step-Stan, long time no see." Eric joked. "Everything good around here? Just brought a visitor to see Uncle D? Cool?"

"Eric, you've got to stop dropping by unannounced. Seriously." Stan sighed. "Please, call ahead of time. Text Grace. Something."

Eric's eyebrows furrowed. "Step-Stan," he started, lowering his voice and leaning forward. "This is Commander McGarrett."

Stan leaned back, rolling his eyes. "Yeah." He said. "You feeling okay, commander?"

"Okay." Steve repeated. That was the operative word. "Thanks. Can I see Danny?"

Stan shrugged noncommittally. "Makes no difference to me. He's asleep, last my wife checked. Here she is, now."

Steve turned to see Rachel's Mercedes pulling into the driveway of the mansion. Rachel waved to Eric, not surprised to see him. Grace was sitting in the passenger seat, staring at Steve with narrowed eyes, although Steve did not register this. He was dumbly overjoyed to see his partner's daughter. He grinned at her.

"I thought you wouldn't make it!" Rachel said, getting out of the car. "Danny will be so glad to see you two."

Stan muttered something under his breath before turning around and walking back into the house. Grace joined her step-father seconds later, brushing past Steve and Eric.

* * *

Meanwhile, Chin Ho Kelly drove towards the high school. The long country roads, which usually allowed for contemplative thinking, only seemed to hinder Chin's specifically planned-out day. He hadn't anticipated a call from Grace Williams, however. Plans had to be changed.

Chin checked his watch. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. After receiving the call from Grace, Chin had called Kono. She had been the one to pick up Sara after school. She and Sara were at Sara's former home now, packing. Chin had so wanted to be with Sara during this time. He hoped, fleetingly, Grace's call would be the only interruption for the foreseeable future.

The sharp tone of Chin's cell startled him, but Chin quickly unlocked his phone and put it on speaker.

"Kono."

"Chin, hi." Kono sounded cautious. "Where are you?"

"I'm about a mile from the soccer field." Chin answered with suspicion. "What's going on?"

"I'm at your place. Sara is unpacking." Kono answered slowly. "Cuz, you need to get over here."

Fear gripped Chin. "Kono, wh-?"

"There was definitely someone watching us at Sara's old place, cuz." Kono started. "Chin, how confident are we that the yakuza knows Gabriel is dead? Gabriel's death was quiet. We kept it under wraps. That's what you wanted. But the yakuza-"

"Is someone watching you now?" Chin's voice caught. He cleared his throat. "Kono. Are you and Sara safe?"

"I need to investigate this." Kono. "I have the intel. Let me look into this, cuz. But you need to get Sara."

Chin stared at the outline of the soccer field, just a stone's throw away, before swerving. "Kono, stay with Sara. Don't move. I'm on my way Stay with Sara."

"I will." Kono said. "Chin-"

But Chin had already hung up, and was calling Lou. He would have to investigate the sighting of Keola's murderer. Chin had to make sure his little family was safe. If the yakuza was indeed after his niece, Chin would have to make sure Sara was out of reach. He had to.

* * *

The next two hours at the Edwards house were full of raised voices, shared looks, and panicked statements.

It all began with Stan's grumbling, and Grace's complete willingness to go along with her stepfather's attitude. Stan sighed as he went up to help Danny down the stairs. Grace sighed when Eric asked her "what was happening around town." Stan could be heard snapping at Danny upstairs. When Eric pressed his cousin to open up about her bad mood, Grace opened the floodgates.

"I just don't get why Uncle Steve is here now." She said. She was sitting on the loveseat cattycorner from the couch to where Steve had immediately gravitated. She was slumped down, her strong arms crossed against her chest. Eric sat next to her immediately, always one to be near family. He was completely oblivious to her prickly mood, one eye looking at the staircase for his uncle, one eye on his uncle's best friend.

Steve's eyes had opened. He looked at Grace, confused. Through the exhausted air that hung over him, Steve struggled to comprehend.

"What do you mean, Gracie?" Steve pushed himself up until he was sitting straight.

"You haven't been here at all." Grace mumbled. She was looking down. "You weren't here for Danno. You weren't here when he needed you."

"Gracie-"

"No, you're his best friend!" Grace looked up. Her eyes were read. "Uncle Steve, you were supposed to be there for him. He saved your life. He could have died."

Rachel was in the room in a flash, moving quickly to her daughter and touching the back of his shoulder with a comforting hand. But Grace wasn't having it. She jumped off the couch. Ever since the plane crash, Grace felt like she was truly the only one angry on Danny's behalf, especially since Danny wouldn't allow himself to admit his feelings to anyone. To make matters worse, Rachel couldn't allow Stan to think she cared too much about her ex-husband (in the rollercoaster post-marriage relationship between Rachel and Danny, they were currently at the bottom of the track, moving stagnantly). Charlie was too young to understand. And Steve. Steve and the rest of 5-0 were oblivious. Grace realized this after her second visit to her father's hospital room, when cards continued to pile in for Steve and none for Danny. Danny, however, when confronted by Grace, was stubbornly complacent and unemotional. And so, to add to her problems, Grace was fed up with her father, too.

"This whole time," Grace continued with less confidence, the words she had wanted to say for so long running out of her mind at once. Grace desperately held onto to fragments of what she could and spoke to her uncle. "When Danno was recovering, and you too, you let everyone think you had done everything. That you had saved the whole state. But Danno flew the plane. He saved your life. And then you let him leave the hospital when he wasn't ready. You never even called him."

"I tried-"

"But you didn't-" Grace shook her head. Her face was pink. She looked to her mother for guidance. Rachel, standing behind Eric, was silent. She glanced towards the stairs as well. Stan's voice could still be heard. Danny's voice was fainter.

"Grace has had an unusually stressful day." Rachel finally spoke, when it was clear Grace was looking for her mother to save her. "That being said, Steve-"

"Gracie," Steve glanced at the two women. "I…I understand. I do. I was wrong."

"Yeah, but, Commander McGarrett, you were recovering, too." Eric put in. Grace fixed her cousin with such a red-eyed, ferocious look that Eric held up his hands in surrender. "I take it back," he said. "No recovering at all."

"Eric," Rachel began. "Come help me make some tea."

"Help?" Eric scoffed. "You don't need help making tea, Auntie Rach. You're English. You were born with a teacup – ooh." Eric caught his aunt's gaze. "Okay. I get it. I'm not needed in this conversation. Understood." Eric stood up with a sigh. "Not the first time I've missed that cue."

And then everything happened at once. Bright headlights could be seen as a car screeched past the open gate and into the driveway, distracting Steve and Grace and also Stan and Danny, who had emerged from the corner bedroom, Stan holding Charlie and Danny holding his chest. In fact, Steve did not even notice the emergence of Danny Williams. He struggled to his feet, his back to Danny and his eyes focused on the car in the driveway, a car he recognized immediately.

"It's Chin." He said to no one in particular. Grace wiped her eyes, turning around as well to look out the window. Indeed, Chin Ho Kelly was already out of the car and opening the passenger seat. A young girl cautiously stepped out, clutching the straps of the backpack around her tiny shoulders. Chin was glancing over his shoulder, leading the girl by hand towards the front door. Rachel went out to meet him.

"Steve," Danny said. He had made it, miraculously, to the bottom of the steps. Steve whirled around – almost too fast, steadying himself on the armrest of the couch. He let out a breath, his shoulders falling in relaxation.

"Danno," he breathed out, just as Stan with Charlie brushed past Danny and Rachel and Chin and Sara entered the home speaking rapidly and the tea kettle began to scream and Eric didn't know what to do and Grace left the room and in spite of everything, Steve and Danny just looked at each other. In spite of everything, Danny couldn't help but smile.

"Long time no see, babe." Danny's smile faded only slightly, but he was truly as happy as he could remember since Steve had been shot and their worlds had flipped upside down.


	10. Makeup Sessions On Hold

The Recovery Period: Chapter Ten

 **A/n: I know, I'm a terrible person. Forgive the delay. Here's an equally frustrating chapter about Danny not having the conversations he wants to have with the people who are finally here for him.**

* * *

Sometimes Grace wished she was still young, like Charlie. That way, maybe she wouldn't feel the overwhelming need to fix things herself, and she could go back to innocently relying on her parents, who could do no wrong. But they had done wrong. They had divorced, Danny was constantly in danger (and putting them in danger, despite his best intentions). Rachel had lied to them all for years. Grace grew up pretty fast after that.

There had been no time to readily process Rachel's bombshell of a secret when it was first revealed to her. Everything moved so quickly. Danny rushed off to the hospital to donate his bone marrow, Steve quick at his heels, Rachel rushed off to be with her son, and Grace was in school. Stan was left in the dust, grasping at the air and hoping for his lost son. Grace, too, felt left behind. She was angry at her mother and at her father and at Charlie, just because, but she never let on. Only afterwards, once Charlie was on the road to recovery and Danny and Rachel doted after him with renewed vigor, did Grace begin to feel a sense of guilt welling up inside of her. Should she have known about Charlie? Could she have guessed? She felt like she should have known. She should have tried.

She found Stan in the garage one evening, after he had returned from work. She was home alone, and had heard the garage door open and close, but minutes had passed and Stan had yet to enter the home. Finally, Grace opened the garage door and peered inside. Stan, briefcase in hand, stood at the doorway, his hand holding the doorknob but not twisting it. He was staring at the ground, and appeared to have been doing so for several minutes.

"Stan?" She spoke timidly. He blinked, his only response.

Finally, he had looked up and attempted to smile at his stepdaughter.

"I've helped raise you longer than I raised my own son, but that turned out to go to the crapper." Stan muttered. "And Charlie's going to be fine. And your dad's going to get him."

"No," Grace shook her head. "No, because Mom wouldn't let that happen. Charlie is safe, here with you and Mom."

Stan scoffed, his tone harsh. "You really think I have a chance with Rachel anymore, with Danny crawling around the house 24/7 to be with you and Charlie? You're so fucking naïve." He paused, flushed angrily. "I'm fucking naïve. You're not naïve. You're like a thirty year-old trapped in a little girl's body."

Grace raised her eyebrow. "Thank you?"

"Forget it." Stan rubbed a hand along his face. "Forget everything. Forget I'm even here. Seems easy enough."

"I didn't know, just so you know." Grace thought this was as good a time as any. "I didn't know about Charlie."

Stan's face softened. "I know that, Gracie."

"I would have told you if I knew." Grace insisted.

Stan hesitated. "I don't think that's true, but thank you." He shrugged dejectedly, as if he had exhausted everything there was to say on the subject of losing a child to the perpetually-present ex-husband. "Let's go inside."

Now, Grace sat with the adults while Charlie slept, completely oblivious that there were any other visitors in the house besides his father, when in reality, the place was full. Steve and Danny sat on the couch, silent but close. Eric sat next to Grace on the bottom step of the stairwell, his arm lazily around her shoulders. Rachel stood. Chin was standing as well, the most recent addition to the home. He was holding a sleeping Sara in his arms. She, too, was oblivious. Oblivious to the pale look on her uncle's face and the word he kept repeating to Rachel. Yakuza.

Stan, bitter and alone and helpless, was in the kitchen, sipping Rachel's tea in slow gulps and working his way through a large helping of blueberry pie. He was generally ignored.

Grace's cheeks were still red from her outburst at Steve. She had snapped at Chin, too, when he had first entered the home and it became clear to her that he was seeking the safety of Danny's home (basically) without actually respecting or apologizing to Danny. This was a perversion of the truth, however. Chin's surprised face indicated this to Grace, who stuttered to say something else, but then Danny was reprimanding her from the stairs, and Rachel was shaking her head as well, and only Stan seemed blatantly disinterested. Grace clamped her jaw shut. She wanted to leave. Chin wanted to explain himself. Stan wanted a piece of pie.

"Of course, Chin, I understand." Rachel nodded, her arms crossed over her chest. "Of course. I'll set up the guest room for you. There's another twin bed in Charlie's room. It was an extra for Grace, when she had friends over. Sara can sleep there. Is that all right? Until you get this settled."

The relief washed over Chin's face like a waterfall. "Rachel," he placed his free hand on her arm. "You have no idea what this means to me. Thank you."

"Of course." Rachel said again, nodding. "I understand, Chin." She seemed to be a broken record tonight. She headed up the stairs, Eric and Grace parting for her to walk in between them.

Steve and Danny, who had been eavesdropping in order to not speak to one another, were briefly out of things to do. They glanced at one another.

"You tired?" Danny asked Steve.

"Sleep is for the weak, Danny."

"Yeah, I get that, Steve. Are you tired?"

"Funny." Steve said. He was tired. He was very tired. "What about you? You went all the way down the stairs, big boy."

"Patronizing." Danny caught on to the tone immediately.

"I can't take you seriously when you're wearing a shirt you probably got in 1993."

"If I had known you were coming I would have put on my best pair of cargo shorts, believe me." Danny rolled his eyes.

"Can't outdo the master." Steve retorted.

Danny knew this conversation wasn't going anywhere. Steve wasn't looking him in the eyes. In fact, Steve could hardly keep his eyes open. The great two hour makeup session Danny had so envisioned (that was how a bitter Stan had once pitched it to him, anyhow) was not going as planned. There was no way Steve would get on his news and beg for forgiveness when all he could manage were a few predictable quips. Danny wasn't tired. Seeing his friend brought him a renewed sense of vigor to really speak about what had been bothering him all these days and what he wanted to get off his chest – still, once Danny actually saw Steve, he changed his mind. He didn't know if he was really ready to have this conversation, or if he just wanted to continue with how things were; Steve with part of Danny's liver and Danny with a silent recovery.

Danny made the decision in his mind before he patted Steve's knee gently. "C'mon, go get some sleep."

"Sleep?" Steve repeated softly. "Nah, Danny, I need to-"

"Shut up, would you?" Danny shook his head. "Let's go. We can talk in the morning. I'll take the couch. You go upstairs in the bed."

"No." Steve shook his head. "No, I-"

"I'm serious, babe." Danny said, softer. He could feel the eyes in the room drifting towards them. "You need to rest. Why are you out of the hospital so soon, huh? Who let you out?"

"I'll let myself out, Danny." Steve said, mustering up the last of his energy to say this with gusto. Danny rolled his eyes and turned his head towards the staircase. Grace and Eric still sat at the bottom of the stairs. Rachel was emerging from the guest room.

"Chin," she called down. "I've made up the bed. Shall I bring Sara up?"

"I can." Chin adjusted the sleeping girl in his arms. His arms were numb from holding Sara for so long. He hadn't realized how long it had been; had not realized how much how tightly he held his niece. He only focused on keeping her safe and away from yakuza or whomever else.

"All right." Rachel nodded. "Eric, would you help Steve up the stairs, please?"

As people began to move, some slower than others, and Stan not at all (although he had been long since forgotten), Grace and Eric stood. Grace busied herself with finding a blanket for her father and not showing him her red face. Chin and Sara walked up the stairs, Chin's face stony. Sara still slept. Rachel moved down the stairs to help Steve. Eric moved as well, taking Steve's arm. Rachel took the other. Soon, Danny was alone in the living room, staring out the window at the cars in the driveway.

"Here, Danno." Grace said, appearing suddenly at his side and handing her father a blanket. "I'll get your pillow."

"Monkey." Danno took his daughter's arm in his strong hand. She wasn't looking at him. "Grace, do you want to talk?"

Grace shook her head, indignantly silent at first. When she finally turned her head, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and looked at her father, Danny's shoulders fell. "Grace," he said again, tugging her into a hug. Danny hugged his daughter decidedly less than he wanted to. She had become a little more reserved to her father's overt affection. His engulfing hugs if he picked her up from school were less welcome. She called him "Danno" less. In the long run, Grace's love was still the same for her father, and always would be, but she was growing up. She was independent now. She tried to be, at least. Perhaps this was why she was so surprised at her outburst this evening.

"I don't want you blaming Uncle Steve for anything, okay?" Danny whispered, pulling away and looking his daughter in the eyes, holding on to her shoulders. "I know things are a mess, but let me fix it, huh? I don't want you in the middle of this."

"Danno-"

"No-"

"No," Grace pushed her way back into the conversation, "I just wanted to say I didn't mean to."

"But you meant it."

"Yes." Grace said. "Because it's not fair."

Danny looked down. "We're working on it." He could tell Grace was uncomfortable and let go of her arms. "Anyway. Let's talk about it tomorrow. Got that? Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Grace repeated, happy to be let go. "Night, Danno."

"Nigh-" but Grace had already scampered away, and Danny was once again left alone. There were two conversations put off until tomorrow.

"No makeup sessions for you, tonight." Stan muttered as he headed up the stairs. Danny ignored this.


	11. Fathers

**The Recovery Period: Chapter Eleven**

* * *

It had been a long night. Lou was not proud of the fact that he had not managed to make it to the soccer field that night, but it happened and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Lou had been caught up with Kono, looking into possible yakuza activity at the home of Gabriel's late wife. The rest of the night was spent working on an armed robbery – a case he was specifically called in to inspect by the Honolulu PD. When Lou finally got home, he had multiple missed calls from Kono, his wife, and one from Makoa himself. The latter he told himself to remember before he clambered into bed next to his sleeping wife.

He woke up five hours later. The sun was up and despite Lou's obvious exhaustion, he rose and once again grabbed his phone. His wife was in the shower. Running a hand along his face, Lou stared once more at Makoa's missed call before unlocking his phone and pressing it to his ear. It was technically early, but Lou was running on four hours of sleep. This generally made him cranky, and Lou paid no expense making sure people around felt a little of what he was feeling, too.

"Hi, Captain Grover." The voice on the other sounded strained. Perhaps Makoa had been unable to sleep as well.

"Makoa, how are you?" Lou asked, leaving the bedroom as his wife entered it. "I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"About yesterday." Makoa sounded impatient. "I heard Lono called the police."

Actually, that had been Grace Williams. Lou did not correct Makoa.

"Are you going to tell me not to chase after possible murder suspects again?"

"Son, I am not your mother." Lou held back a scoff. A tired Samantha entered the kitchen, rubbing her cheeks and trying to wake up. Lou stood once more and went into the hallway. "But I would suggest, in the future, to wait until you have some officers who can chase suspects with you. How does that sound?"

"Did you even show up?" Makoa asked. "By the time I got back, Lono was home and he said you never came."

"Got held up." Lou admitted. "Listen, I'm on my way over real soon-"

"What's the point?" Makoa interrupted. "She's gone. The car is gone. You'd just go to an empty parking lot and look stupid."

"Well, then." Lou inhaled sharply. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I saw her, man." Makoa breathed out. "It was her. I know it."

"Describe her."

"Dark hair, like I said before. Haole woman. Tall. She was wearing, uh, black pants. Gray shirt. She seemed like forty? In her late forties."

"Where did you see her?" Lou asked as he cataloged the information in his mind. He would write it down once he got to the office.

"She was at Lono's soccer game. I don't know how she knew I would be there."

 _Unless she was looking for your brother,_ the thought crossed Lou's mind.

"She just stared at me," Makoa continued. "She wouldn't look away."

"Looked at you how?"

"Like, I don't know, like with a…like she wanted to tell me something." Makoa was clearly flustered. "Which she did."

"What do you mean?"

"She knew more about my boyfriend than I did." Makoa mumbled, voice barely audible over the phone.

"Let's not assume." Lou said automatically. "We don't know much about this woman yet. You get her plates, see what she was driving?"

"Yeah," Makoa cleared his throat. "Yeah, she was driving one of those Chevy ones…the Corolla? White. Older model. I didn't…I didn't get the number. It was a Hawaii license plate. But I didn't get the number."

"We'll see what we can do. You've done a good job, Makoa. We can use this information, you understand? This is good."

"Sure." Makoa's voice was small. "Look, I have to go. I'm going to see Keola's foster parents today."

"Yeah." Lou said, to fill the silence. "Okay. Take it easy, kid. We'll keep you updated."

* * *

Hours before, when the moon still held precedent in the sky and Lou had yet to return home, Steve woke up, sweating and confused in a dark room he did not recognize. A few seconds later, Steve remembered he was in the guest room of Rachel and Stan Edwards' home, sleeping in Danny's bed.

Steve had imagined the plane had crashed again, this time with Wo Fat in the cockpit with him. Danny was nowhere to be found. Wo Fat let the plane crash, laughing as Steve struggled to keep pressure on his wound and steer the ship.

His heart racing and pain of his injuries returning to him in a crashing wave, Steve struggled to sit up. He was too hot for the covers anyway. He brushed them aside. With a heaving sigh, Steve ran a hand along the back of his neck. His watch lit up and displayed the time – three a.m. Fine. This was all the sleep Steve would get. No use going back to sleep now and facing another jarred dream.

It took Steve a few tries to push himself off the bed, for it was so comfortable that Steve seemed to sink into the mattress every time. The hospital cot had been hard, and Steve's own bed at his home stayed a constant firmness, like he was used to in the Navy. Comfort during sleep never occurred to him. Sleep was a biological need, and could be achieved many different ways, on many different hard surfaces. Plush mattresses were a luxury, but if Steve spent any more time on this bed he might have to invest in one.

Steve pulled on the sleeveless shirt and pair of shorts he had folded on the end of the bed, careful not to disturb the bandages on his chest, and left the room. His bare feet quietly, slowly, made their way down the steep stairs. Steve held on to the railing tightly.

The couch in the living room was faced away from the stairwell, but Steve could see Danny's blonde hair as he descended the steps. Danny lay on his back, his hands protectively on his chest, over his bandages. There was a blanket draped loosely below his arms, covering his feet. For once, the television was off, but Rachel lived in a busy neighborhood, and the incessant lapping of waves could not be heard. Danny was fast asleep. Steve, once he reached the bottom of the stairs, did not wake his partner. He walked past him and into the kitchen.

The kitchen table was already occupied, this time by Rachel. As her husband had hours before, Rachel was eating a piece of pie. Rachel seemed less interested in the food in front of her, however, than staring blankly at the refrigerator. The fork she held in her hand was clean. The pie was untouched. Her hair was pulled back from her face and in a loose bun. She wore an old shirt that was far too large on her and fell nearly to her knees. Something about a conference in Toledo in 2005. Stan's shirt. Without makeup and with only the pale glow from a street lamp illuminating her face, Rachel looked incredibly worn.

"Can't sleep." Steve said, as much of a question to her as it was a statement by him. Rachel was surprised to see him but pushed back the chair next to her so he could sit down. He did so, gingerly.

"Yes," she finally said quietly when Steve sat down, "I can't either." She paused. "I don't usually sleep through the night."

"No?"

"Not since Charlie was born. Stan's worse than I am. He was the worried Charlie would disappear in the middle of the night when we first took him home from the hospital. He always woke up to check on him." Rachel looked down. "They both sleep through the night, now."

Steve looked away, towards the couch, towards his partner. Danny's chest rose and fell with his even sleep.

Rachel followed Steve's gaze and smiled softly.

"He's glad you're here, Steve." She said.

Steve nodded curtly, turning back to Rachel.

"Steve," she started. "You are feeling all right, aren't you?"

Steve nodded again. Another pause.

"What was he like?" Steve asked. "In New Jersey. When you first met him. What was he like?"

Rachel took in the question, raising her eyebrows with a soft smile. She pushed the plate of pie towards Steve.

"Here," she handed him the fork. "You need this more than I do."

"Rachel-"

"Yeah." Rachel ran a hand along the back of neck to check for stray hairs. Her loose bun was miraculously still intact. "Well, when we first started dating, he was nearly always surrounded by his family. Always. It's so interesting for me to see him now, in Hawaii, separated from his family. He is different than he was in New Jersey. I think he's happier here." Rachel caught Steve's surprised look. "I do." She repeated. "I do, because his family so looked to him for guidance, for everything. He was the oldest child of the oldest child of the oldest child. All of his siblings and cousins went to Danny if they needed anything. His parents and aunts and uncles depended on him to keep the other children in order. People have always depended on Danny; that's how he spent his childhood. The way he put it to me, joining the police force was a natural decision. He could protect his family far better as a cop than as an overprotective relative. Of course, while Danny cared for everyone else, he did not take care of himself. It's no wonder why his claustrophobia and anxiety are so debilitating. No one ever made sure he was okay." She paused again, stood up, and grabbed another fork. She decided to have the pie as well. Steve let her, of course, not really hungry.

"When I married Stan and moved to Hawaii, Danny was a mess." Rachel chewed slowly, speaking quietly. "Hey may have told you some of this. Stan's job transferred him here, it was out of our control. Danny couldn't bear to be away from Grace, but he had never lived more than fifteen minutes from his parents or siblings. The only reason he even agreed to go on a honeymoon out of town was because he was meeting my father."

Steve laughed, surprised. "Danny hung out with his in-laws during your honeymoon?"

"Yes," Rachel laughed, too. "Really, he quite enjoyed it. My mother passed away when I was a child, but my father lives in England. He and I are not particularly close, but I felt he should meet my husband. I felt an obligation to this. He and Danny got on surprisingly well."

"Danny actually liked his in-laws." Steve repeated dumbly. Finally, a cliché Danny didn't fit.

"My father worked constantly when I was growing up. We never made a connection. I went to school in America, in New York. I didn't return to England until then, until the honeymoon. So family was an odd concept to me. Until I met Danny, I really had no idea how families were supposed to work."

"I don't think there's one set way." Steve said evenly, thinking back to his own childhood.

"I suppose." Rachel shrugged. "I really never knew my mother, and my father, he was a painter. He remained in his studio during the day and at night attended social events and museum galas, anything to make his name known. I really resented him when I was a teenager. But Danny, he really took to my father. Did you know-" Rachel laughed at the memory, sitting up straight, "Would you believe a good portion of our honeymoon I spent alone in my childhood bedroom? Danny always insisted on golfing with my father. They would take hours."

"And this marriage didn't work out?" Steve asked sarcastically.

"I should have known then," Rachel smiled sadly. "Anyway, at the time I found it charming. And strange. Mostly strange, I suppose." She took another bite of pie. "Before we left England, Danny tried to convince my father to come to America, so he could be with me. Danny seemed to think it was very important my father and I were near each other. But he said no. His whole life was in England. He couldn't leave. So we left without him, and returned to New Jersey. Years later, you know," Rachel adjusted in her seat, "at the worst of our fighting, Danny said I had no concept of family. The death of my mother couldn't be helped, but my lackluster relationship with my father was a major reason why I was breaking apart our family. I just didn't understand family like he did. He knew it offended me. But we were angry at each other and were searching for words that hurt. I've said more things that I regret to Danny than I can count. I'm sure he feels the same." Rachel looked down. "And then, years later, he moved to Hawaii. He left his entire family to be near a woman who hated him, a man who could care less about him, and his daughter. So he could be a father to Grace.

"He doesn't hate Hawaii, Steve. Really. I think Hawaii is a much better place for him than New Jersey. I often found the city suffocating. Out here, everything is calm. The only thing he hates is being away from his family. He's all right because of Grace, and Charlie, and his friends. His team. You and Chin, Kono…you mean the world to Danny. Don't you realize that?" Rachel asked. "Danny would do anything to protect you."

Steve was silent. He set down his fork and looked back at the sleeping form on the couch. For all Steve thought he knew about Danny, there was so much more he had yet to learn. Steve wouldn't have that opportunity if the plane had truly crashed, like in his dream. If Danny had not protected him, as was his inherent nature. Steve and Danny were ohana.

"I know that now." Steve said, more to himself than to Rachel. "I know now."


	12. Are We Good? (And Other Queries)

**The Recovery Period: Chapter Twelve**

 **A/n: I'm reading more and more about season seven, so let's hope for a good season! Also, here's a long chapter with (FINALLY) some Steve/Danny reconciliation.**

 **Content warning in this chapter for an anxiety attack.**

 **Also, as an aside, I wanted to admit that I'm definitely struggling a bit with Rachel's character. In my last fic, Rachel had less of a role, so I felt like I had a handle on her. In this fic, however, Rachel is far more prevalent. My main concern is that I don't know if Rachel has a job or not. If so, then I don't want to keep writing her as a domestic housewife, but if she really is a stay-at-home mom, then I'm on the right track. Does anyone know what Rachel does for a living?**

 **As always, reviews fuel my lifeblood.**

* * *

Lono and Grace stayed after school that next Monday for their respective practices. They did not see much of each other, but around four o'clock, as Grace waited for Rachel to pick her up, she saw him. He had changed out of his soccer uniform and held his sports bag loosely in his tired hand. Grace remained in her cheerleading uniform.

"Hi, Lono." Grace said as she joined him on a bench near the front of the school. He lifted the head that rested on his hand to look up at Grace.

"Hey, Grace," he said, wiping beads of sweat off of his face with his shirtsleeve. "I was actually going to text you."

Grace raised her eyebrows, but said nothing. She and Lono did not speak much. It was unusual for him to text her save for the occasional homework question.

"Remember how you told me Chin was staying with you?" Lono began before he caught the look on her face. "Don't worry, I didn't tell anyone. But, uh, I want to talk to him."

Again, unusual. Grace frowned. "About what?"

Lono shrugged. "I think I have some helpful information for him, that's all. Can I talk to him? Is he busy?"

* * *

Despite Grace's initial hesitation, it did not take her much convincing to agree to Lono's request. Grace felt like she understood Lono. He was trying desperately to help the older brother he admired so much. A brother who, at the moment, wanted nothing to do with anyone, least of all his kid brother. Still, Lono tried. Grace understood her father's line of work enough to recognize the pain Lono felt.

She sat at the kitchen table, eating a banana softly. Her knees were pulled to her chest and the novel she was supposed to read for school was discarded on the table. Grace watched as Chin led the nervous Lono over to the couch in the family room.

"I should have told you earlier." Lono was saying. He gratefully accepted a glass of water from Rachel and drank it quickly. He was breathless from a hard practice and from the panic that had arisen from the bottom of his chest to take hold of his throat. "I…I should have said something earlier."

"Lono, you're telling me now." Chin said. "The important part is that you're here now, okay?"

"Yeah," Lono set down the empty glass with a discouraging shrug. He didn't particularly believe Chin.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" Chin started cautiously.

"The woman…you know, the woman who Makoa ran after at my game? I've seen her before." Lono said quietly.

Grace's eyes widened. She glanced towards where her mother had been, but Rachel had excused herself to another room, not wanting to be a part of the conversation.

"What do you mean?" Chin, too, was surprised.

Lono leaned forward, clearly upset with himself. He ran a hand through his short hair. "I mean, like, like I mean…I've seen her before. I know I have. I-I-I should have told you-"

"Lono." Grace was standing, now. Lono coughed into his elbow, trying to clear his chest of the insurmountable panic he felt. He thought that would help. He thought he could cough it away. He put his head in his hands, breathing heavily.

Chin glanced at Grace, hesitant. Grace was already moving towards Lono, but by the time she reached him she grew as hesitant as Chin. Neither of them knew this boy very well.

Lono sensed Grace was near him and he shook his head, lifting it slightly but refusing to look at Grace. His chest was still heaving, but his mouth was clamped shut. He refused to say anything until he could breathe again. Above all, he refused to look at Grace.

"I…" Grace didn't know what to say. She glanced at the coffee table. "I'll get you more water."

Lono was embarrassed but still did not say anything. He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, his chest did not heave so and he forced himself to look at Chin.

"S-Sometimes this happens." He whispered, when he was sure Grace was still in the kitchen and he could not be heard. But he was wrong, Grace was right behind him. She placed down the glass and sat next to Chin. She was concerned. Lono flushed.

"How long have you-?" Chin didn't know where to begin.

"Since Keola died." Lono's voice was even quieter. He stuffed his shaking hands under his legs. "You can't say anything. I have it under control."

"No, you don't-" Grace started.

Lono looked at her, pleadingly. "I do. I do. They don't take as long, now."

"Lono-"

"You can't say anything to my parents. Or Makoa. Especially Makoa." Lono interrupted quickly, so quickly Chin was afraid his breath had caught and he would begin to panic again. But he was only insistent. Chin nodded.

"Okay." he said. "But I'd like you to finish what you were telling me, if you can."

"Okay." Lono said.

"Grace, can you give us a minute?" Chin asked. Grace paused, but nodded. She went upstairs not long afterwards.

"I'm sure Grace told you I'm only here temporarily." Chin told Lono when Grace was out of earshot. "The house is quite full right now, actually. My coworkers, Steve and Danny, they're here too. They're still recovering. This morning they tried to go to the beach with Danny's nephew, Eric, but they wiped out pretty quickly. They're asleep, now. It's just us. I don't want you to worry, Lono. Whatever you tell me stays here, between the two of us. Understand?"

"Yeah." Lono said sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I…that shouldn't have happened."

"Some things you can't control." Chin put in softly. "Lono, you're very mature for your age, but you still don't know how to do everything. I don't know how to do everything. Some things are beyond our control."

"Yeah, okay." Lono shrugged, eyebrows knit. "Let's just not talk about it, okay?"

"Fair enough. But let's talk about our suspect. You've seen her before? This is very helpful, Lono."

Lono nodded, swallowing. "One time Keola picked me up from practice. Makoa was busy and my parents were working. He came too early and sat in the bleachers to wait for me. And then…and then she was there, too. I'm not sure when she got there but all of sudden she was next to Keola and she was yelling." Lono tried looking at Chin but looked away again, discomforted by Chin's unreadable expression. "Keola stood up and they argued so, like, my coach didn't have a choice but to kick them out of the practice. Keola went home. I got a ride home from a teammate."

"Lono," Chin started. He didn't know where to begin. "Lono, this is very helpful information. Tell me," he sat forward, "Do you happen to remember anything that was said between Keola and this woman?"

"No." Lono shook his head. One hand came out from under his thigh to rub the back of his neck. "No, I'm sorry. It was a few months ago. Over the summer. I remember she said something to him that really upset him, though. I remember him saying 'Take that back!' but nothing else."

"Is there anything else?" Chin asked for good measure.

Lono shrugged helplessly. "I don't know." He said. "I don't know. Um, when I asked Keola the next night, when he was over to pick up Makoa, about the woman, he pushed me and told me to not say anything about it. Like, ever. He would kill me if he knew I was telling you." Lono said the last sentence quickly, without thinking, and wince accordingly at the word choice. The hand around the back of his neck tightened. "Sorry." He said.

Chin sat back, letting the information sink in. Lono really had left out quite a bit of detail. The boy was clearly shaken up. Chin's guess was that the family was so focused on Makoa and his recovery, both physically and mentally, that Lono was pushed to the wayside. Lono was clearly suffering as well. Makoa and Keola had been together for over a year, and he had become like another brother to Lono. His death had been difficult on Lono, too.

But this was information Lono of course already knew. It would bring him no satisfaction to hear Chin repeat his inner monologue to himself. In fact, now that Lono had truly espoused all the information he knew, he was looking very uncomfortable. The poor kid was halfway recovered from a panic attack. He needed to lay down. He needed to recuperate. Instead, he was at his classmate's mansion speaking to a police lieutenant, unbeknownst to his parents, about the murder of his older brother's boyfriend and the possible suspect of said murder. No wonder his heartrate had increased.

Chin sat forward again, this time with something assuring and inspirational in mind to say to Lono, to cheer him up, but two distinct voices suddenly could be heard from a different part of the mansion Chin had yet to discover.

"I refuse. I absolutely refuse. I am not giving consent. Steven. No consent. I do not approve. Steven!"

" _What_ , brah?"

The door opened, then, and out of second living room came Danny, walking as briskly as Chin had seen him walk since his surgery. He still wore a t-shirt and athletic shorts, but he seemed perkier than he had before.

Danny clutched his side as he walked away from the room where Steve was sitting with the guitar Danny had bought him over a year ago, ready to put on some sort of concert.

"Babe." Steve called languidly from the departed room. "Brah. Listen to me. I spent two hours on this. Let me sing the damn song."

But Danny was staring at the kid sitting on the couch, the kid whose tan skin had gone pale and had one hand clamped under his thigh. The kid who wore a soccer uniform. The kid who was struggling to breathe normally.

And Danny seemed to understand more than he had since he was forced to crash a helicopter into the sand.

"Hey, kid." Danny said. He had been in Lono's situation many times. It was always worse when others were around. It was always worse when he had to pretend he was okay. "Chin, what's going on?"

"Danny." Chin said. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I was. Long story." Danny said distractedly. "You care if I sit here?" he was speaking to Lono. Surprised, Lono nodded. Danny sat down gingerly.

"I'm Danny." He said, extending his hand.

"Lono." Lono said quietly.

"Lono is the brother of our vic's boyfriend." Chin said. There really wasn't a tactful way to put it.

To his credit, Danny did not respond to Chin. He took the words in carefully, as if he already knew, and turned back to Lono.

"Anyone ever tell you about counting?" Danny asked casually. Lono glanced at Chin bewilderingly, so Danny continued. "When you feel lightheaded, I mean. Is that how you feel? That's how I get. Always feel like I'm gonna faint, you know what I mean? Faint or throw up or choke on air or all three at once."

Lono stared at Danny. He was clearly guarded, but was beginning to understand. "No." he said, after a beat of silence. "I didn't know. About counting."

"Well, counting is good, see, because if you can count to five or seven or twenty, and you're still conscious, that's good. I consider that a victory."

"And then what?" Lono asked.

"Then?" Danny shrugged. "It's been a while for me, huh? With time it lessens. Rachel can tell you more than me. About how I was. But I know this: if I can list the New York Mets roster by roster for four consecutive years, then by the time I get done I don't think about the fear anymore. I'm just thinking about the New York Mets, which I care about a lot more."

Lono looked down. He nodded slowly, but was clearly flushed and embarrassed. "How did you know?" he asked.

"How did I know?" Danny repeated. "What do you mean, 'how did I know?' You look awful." He paused. "And I've looked worse, so don't worry about it, all right? Don't worry about it."

This time Lono actually smiled, quickly and softly, but it was there. Chin's shoulders visibly relaxed. He glanced at Danny to say something, anything, but Danny was looking back behind Chin, a smile forming on his lips as well.

"What's going on?" Steve was in the room now, walking slowly over to the couch to sit next to Danny and Lono. Lono recognized Steve immediately. He straightened his posture in the presence of the lieutenant commander.

"Oh, nothing." Danny said evenly.

"Thought you were asleep." Chin said, although this seemed like an empty statement.

"I was." Steve echoed his partner as he reached over Danny to shake Lono's hand.

"You're Makoa's kid brother?" Steve asked. Kono had kept him in the loop on the case as much as she could without feeling like she was pushing Steve too hard. The rest Steve had surmised from press releases. In fact, he and Danny had been speaking about the case just that morning, during their failed outing.

"Yeah." Lono said.

"Heard you're pretty good at soccer." Steve said.

"Oh. Thanks." Lono answered. "I guess."

"You guess? Aren't you the star of the team?" Danny scoffed.

"That's what I heard, man." Steve nodded, leaning back against the couch. Danny and Steve were shoulder to shoulder. They both had their arms crossed protectively across their chests.

"Gotta say, brah, it's great to see you two getting along again." Chin couldn't help himself. His smile was genuine.

Danny nodded, looking down, but Steve was overjoyed by the recognition.

"Yeah, man." Steve nodded emphatically. "We talked it out. Shared some embarrassing stories. We're fine. I even-"

"Don't-" Danny sat forward.

"I even had my guitar and everything. Was getting ready for a little Kum Bah Yah."

"Kum Bah Yah? I wish it was Kum Bah Yah." Danny said. "Chin, Steven here was going to sing some Ole Blue Eyes."

Chin obviously did not get the reference, which encouraged Steve only further.

"I learned a _few_ Sinatra songs, brah. That's all. Thought you would like, but okay, I get it. Obviously not. Point taken."

"We were having a nice conversation, Steven, before you decided it was time-"

"You _bought_ me this guitar!"

"In a moment of weakness that I do not regret but at times wish I had reconsidered." Danny retorted quickly.

"C'mon, Danny, it would have been nice."

"I would have had to just sit there. I would have been uncomfortable. At some point I would have no choice but to knock myself out. There'd be no getting around that." Danny said with a helpless shrug. "Babe. You're not a singer."

"I could have gone instrumental."

"Let's stop talking about this. For all of our sakes." Danny held up his hands in surrender. "I appreciate the thought, can we settle on that?"

"You're going to have to hear the song at some point." Steve said indignantly. "Just know that it's coming for you."

"Just like my inevitable death. Yes, okay." Danny readjusted in his seat. "Can we continue with the matter at hand? I want to know what Chin has done with the casino."

"The what?" Chin looked up. He had been partly listening to the conversation (he assumed Lono had been as well), his mind returning to the threat of yakuza and his niece.

Danny's confidence faltered. Perhaps he had the facts wrong. He cleared his throat, but pressed forward. "The casino. Where our victim worked. Have you spoken to his boss?"

"That's where he worked, right?" Steve asked Lono.

"I didn't know that." Lono said. "I didn't know he had a job."

"Yes, but we knew that." Steve said, noticing Danny's frown. "Kono told me that."

"Right." Danny was nodding. "Clearly this is part of Keola's life that he meant to keep hidden."

"And more so," Steve continued. "Check back with Keola's biological parents. His adoptive parents did not seem to know much about them, am I right? There could be some sort of connection here, between our suspect and this secret life Keola had. Right?"

"You got someone picking you up, Lono? Not that we mind the company, but it's the official police business I get a little wary about." Danny turned to the kid next to him. "Not to mention someone who's the same age as my daughter and the opposite sex being so close to my daughter. That's nothing against you, just a general principle."

"Don't take it personally." Steve said.

"Let me call Kono and Lou." Chin spoke over the brief moment of silence that ensued, as the three on the couch waited for Chin to speak. He was disappointed in himself. "We'll get on this. Thanks for the tips. I've been…I've been distracted, lately. I apologize for not checking in on those points sooner."

"Chin, hey, don't worry about it." Danny said softly. "You're going through a big adjustment."

"Yeah, brah, so are you." Chin laughed breathlessly.

"Okay, but we're back now, huh?" Danny said. "We'll be back to work in no time."

"As soon as the doctor says so, but probably sooner." Steve tagged on. "I'll be back sooner, anyway."

Danny bit back a retort and focused on Chin. "We've got this covered here." He assured Chin. "Take Lono home and we'll get to work."

"Yeah." Chin nodded, standing up slowly. Lono did as well. "Okay. But I don't want you two leaving the house."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve said. "Get out of here."

* * *

Chin and Lono left the home, Grace returned to her homework, Charlie and Sara raced each other downstairs to play with Charlie's toys, and Stan was pulling into the driveway. But Danny and Steve remained on the couch. In fact, at one point, Steve fell asleep. When he woke up, Danny had slowly lowered himself to the ground. In front of him, Sara and Charlie were staring intently at a game of Jenga. Danny was equally as involved. Steve watched the three for a moment. Neither said a word. Charlie's brows were furrowed. Sara looked equally as focused as she pulled out a block. The stack stayed upright.

"Hey." Steve tapped Danny on the shoulder. Danny brushed the hand aside, not in the mood, but Steve tapped him on the shoulder again so Danny turned around.

"Danno, it's your turn-" Charlie started.

"One sec, buddy." Danny responded. He looked at Steve. "What's up?"

Steve was suddenly hesitant. "Just wanted to…just wanted to confirm that we were okay."

Danny was silent. "We're okay."

"Because I know I screwed up." Steve put in quickly. "I know that. I want to make sure we're good."

Danny glanced back at the Jenga game. Then he sighed, pulling out the complete wrong block on purpose. The tower tumbled to the ground. Sara and Charlie began to complain.

"I know, I'm terrible. Go find another game. Get out of here." Danny said, brushing the blocks – and the children – aside. Indignantly, Charlie and Sara ran off to complain to Rachel. And, most likely, to find another game to play with Danny.

"Listen to me." Danny started. "I was pissed."

"Yeah." Steve nodded. "You should have been."

"I was." Danny sighed. "I thought…I thought I deserved some recognition, okay? I thought I deserved that much. And then, then I thought there was no chance you could understand. Don't say anything. Let me finish. I thought you were completely oblivious to what was happening. How everyone – _everyone_ – chose you over me. As if there was ever a choice to make. So it was…so that's why I left, came here. But I sort of thought…listen, I sort of thought that this was meant to happen, you know? These sort of things never work out for me. Friendships, you know. Relationships either. Don't say anything. I can see the look on your face. All I'm saying is the one woman I really loved and was married to for almost a decade left me and tried to take my children from me, okay? So I've been burned before, is what I'm saying. That's why…that's why what I have here, with 5-0, you know, it's important to me. Without you all, Grace, Charlie…what do I have, here?"

"Eric." Steve put in without thought.

"Right." Danny smiled softly. "Eric."

Steve looked down. "I didn't know about all the press. If I had known I would have fixed it. I would have made sure you were included. You're right, you deserved that."

"Yeah." Danny shrugged. "But it's too late."

"You think _you_ would be lost without 5-0?" Steve looked at his partner. "Danny, I'm alone. Catherine's gone. My father's gone. My mother and sister are away."

"Yeah." Danny looked down. "I understand."

"I'm sorry you feel like the team abandoned you." Steve said. "I don't remember much, so I won't agree with you or not. But I'm here now. Chin, too. And Kono, Lou, all of us. We're here now."

"Right, now that you're okay, we can focus on your annoying partner again, right?"

"No, no, Danny, that's not true." Steve grew irritated. "They were scared. For both of us. And at the time, I don't know, I was worse than you. Right? So they all had to make a decision."

Danny nodded with sarcastic understanding. "Okay." he said.

"If I had been awake, I would have told someone to go be with you." Steve said. "I think…I think, when I first woke up, I did say that. My memory is fuzzy, but I think that's what I said."

Danny's eyes softened. "I know, babe. Chin told me. I know things would have been different. Let's forget about it."

"So we're good?"

"Fantastic."

Steve stared at Danny. "I'm sorry about what I said. About Charlie hating you."

Danny was silent for a moment. "I actually had forgotten about that."

"Fucking liar."

"Yeah." Danny sighed. "I remember."

"I shouldn't have said it."

"Okay. I understand. Apology noted. Pending acceptance."

"Dann-"

"Accepted." Danny said. Charlie and Sara could be heard padding around in the other room. They would be coming back soon.

"He looks up to you. Charlie will never hate you."

"You don't have to tell me that, babe." Danny said with an empty air of confidence. He wasn't sure if he believed the statement himself.

"Okay, so-"

"You know, when you get unsure of yourself, Steven, you also get really annoying. I don't really want to talk about it anymore. I've made my peace with this. Once you spend a few days under the same roof as Stan Edwards, you realize that holding a grudge for an extended period of time does not look good on a person. I'm glad you're okay. I would give you part of my liver under any circumstance. Okay? I won't let you die if I can help it. And I won't let you be miserable. So get over it. I did."

Steve sighed in relief. He sat back. "Yeah. Same, buddy."

"We're good." Danny said, just to assure his partner.

"We're good." Steve repeated, as Charlie and Sara burst into the room once more, both holding different games and grinning wildly.


	13. We Should Have Already Done This

**The Recovery Period:** **Chapter Thirteen**

 **A/n: Well hey, season seven premiered. So much for this being a between seasons fic. Oh well. I'll try and wrap up, anyway. The next few chapters will be pretty case-based, which I know, is not everyone's favorite. BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THE STORY. And then, I promise, I'll return to some fluff goodness.**

* * *

5-0 realized, with some difficulty, that they had desperately needed Steve and Danny's input. It was like they were waiting for them to say something…anything. And finally, when Danny and Steve had suggested speaking to Keola's biological parents, and going to his work, the three remaining members snapped into action.

Chin felt responsible. He had been sitting on this information for days. He knew that Keola was hired as muscle for the casino at the edge of the city. And he knew about Keola's biological father being in prison and his mother being homophobic and living in Arizona. He had been too wrapped up in his own life to properly address this case, which was odd for him. Chin never let his personal and professional life mix. But Chin had never had to raise a child, either.

This was no excuse. But Chin was feeling guilty. It was late at night, Sara had had trouble getting to sleep, and Chin did not know what to do. He sat in a chair near her bed, one hand resting lightly on her back as she slept. Sara had asked him to stay. She said her mother used to do this sometimes. Chin nodded. Of course, of course he could stay.

So he sat. He sat with one hand on Sara's small back, resting on an uncomfortable chair in between two small beds. Charlie was asleep in the next bed. If he thought it was strange Chin was staying in his room too, he didn't say anything. Just turned his head so he was facing away from Sara and Chin and quickly drifted off to sleep.

For the record, Lou and Kono knew, too. They all knew separate snippets of Keola's life. True, Chin knew the whole story, but Kono knew about Keola's biological parents, and Lou knew about the casino. So. Chin wasn't entirely at fault, right?

It didn't matter. He should have done something. He should have looked into the leads.

Steve had given Chin a strange look that night during dinner. It occurred during yet another lapsed, awkward silence. Holding a conversation was difficult when the main source of talking points was Charlie, who babbled about some cartoon incoherently for a few moments before looking around for someone to respond. The rest of the table – Rachel, Stan, Danny, Steve, Chin, Sara, and Grace – were eager to avoid speaking to one another and gladly encouraged Charlie. Then Charlie became bored with the conversation, and returned to his food. That was when Sara shrunk in on herself and stopped eating. Chin didn't notice until a few moments later – he should have, he had messed up again – and immediately turned his attention to his niece, flustered and not sure how to help. Sara, of course, could sense this, and she began cry. It wasn't fair. She wanted her mother. Grace, meanwhile, was texting. Rachel sat very uncomfortably in between her former and current husband. Danny was tired and didn't want to speak. Stan was stewing, and eventually turned to Rachel and began to whisper a complaint to her. The two began an argument entirely in whispers. And Steve. Steve was staring at Chin, eyebrows furrowed. Chin felt his eyes on him and glanced at Steve, but couldn't make out his boss's expression. So Chin looked away, gathered Sara in his arms, and left the table.

Now, thinking back on the look, Chin knew. Steve was looking at Chin and trying to figure out when Chin changed, when Chin became irresponsible, and if Chin could still be an asset to 5-0 while he had Sara.

* * *

Kono left the prison disheartened. She dialed Lou's number with a sigh, running a hand through her hair. She had wanted to give Chin some good news. This visit had not helped her at all.

"Talk to me, Kono." Lou's voice was curt. "I have Keola's mother on hold right now."

"Oh?" Kono was surprised to hear this. "Anything good?"

"Maybe. The woman's incredibly cagey." Lou grumbled. "She's all but determined not to tell me anything." He paused. "But what about you? Did Keola's father have anything to say?"

"Nothing at all." Kono shook her head. "Keola's foster parents were right – Keola had no contact with his father. Despite their having practically the same job, and for all intents and purposes, despite Keola living nearly the same life that his father did before his arrest, there's no relationship there. He knew nothing."

"Nothing." Lou repeated. "Well, shit. You mean this guy had no insight whatsoever into his son's practically _inherited_ position at the casino?"

"He seemed to think that Keola must have been doing something right, if he was shot."

"He said that?"

"Yeah." Kono sighed. "I know. It's messed up. The point is, there's no lead with Keola's father. The last time he worked at the casino was nearly twenty years ago. The game has changed."

"He said that, too? Listen, I'm not sure what game he was playing, Kono, but the objective is still 'get the money from the schmucks who aren't paying the money.' I don't think it's that difficult to grasp."

"What do you want me to say, Lou? This is a dead end." Kono snapped. "It was a waste of my time. I have better things to be doing."

"Like _what_?"

Kono was silent. "Lou." She took in a deep breath. "I…Sorry. I-"

"Don't mention it." Lou said. "Listen, I have to get back to this call."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Go see Chin, Kono. Go see the team over at Rachel's place."

"No, no, I have-"

"Go on, that's an order from a captain, officer." Lou insisted. "I'll finish up the call and meet you there."

Kono nodded. "Okay," she said, finally. "Thanks, Lou."

* * *

"You were saying, ma'am?"

"Actually, I don't remember the question." The guarded response came after some hesitation.

Shit, Lou didn't remember the question either. He ran a hand along his head and stared out the window. He was driving to Rachel's house, but was twenty or so minutes out. Just long enough for questioning a victim's mother. Right? Anyway. Lou returned to the matter at hand.

"I'll repeat myself. We've determined your homophobia. Now, you're a woman of reasonable wealth. You've done well for yourself in the South. You could afford to have your son tailed, wouldn't you agree? Especially when he wouldn't return your calls, anyway."

"Once again, sir, I must object to this line of questioning." The answer was brisk.

Lou rolled his eyes and flipped on his turn signal.

"Now, ma'am-"

"No, you listen to me, Captain Grover. I have not been contacted about my son's case once."

"Yes, ma'am. Legally, he's not your son, see. We have-"

"So I want to know why you're so interested in me _now._ "

"I'll be honest." Lou answered quickly. "We had a lapse in judgment. Our team was hit not too long ago. We're still recovering. Keola's death is our first case since. Okay? We're recovering. But here's the thing, see, I think you're very lucky you've had all this time to yourself, you know. You've had time to really think over what you're going to say."

"I'm not sure what you-"

"Because, here's the thing, ma'am. We looked into you. We looked into the messages you left on your son's phone. We _especially_ looked into the messages you left on your son's _boyfriend's_ phone. Those were a little more concerning. Different from the 'call me, I'm your mother' lines."

She was silent, so Lou continued.

"They were more of the 'I'm watching you' sort of lines. Is that correct?" Lou did not wait for an answer. "You're lucky Makoa never took your messages seriously. He had even forgotten about them. Didn't tell us about them until this morning, when the thought crossed his mind. But you knew. They were your messages. And, I've gotta tell you, you really had me convinced that you were watching him. Or you had sent someone to watch him."

"He's corrupted my son-"

"So my question to you is, did you send someone to keep an eye on your son?" Lou pretended not to hear the woman.

There was a pause. "That doesn't make me a murderer."

"That's not what I asked."

"Yes." Keola's mother answered quickly. She was flustered. "Yes, okay. Yes. I sent my sister. I asked her to go to Hawaii and make sure Keola was alright. He never wants to see me, you know. He never wants to talk to me. I had to know how my baby was doing. But my sister. She would never. She wouldn't. She couldn't kill my baby."

"Your sister, is she still in Hawaii? Does she know about Keola's death?"

"Yes. Yes, she knows. She called me just after the police did." The mother nodded. "She's flying out to visit me tomorrow morning."

"Give me a name?"

"Kathy. Kathy O'Neill."

"Thank you for your time, ma'am."


	14. Kathy O'Neill

**The Recovery Period: Chapter Fourteen**

 **A/n: Soft spoiler for 7.1, but I sincerely hope the rest of the season doesn't involve 10 minutes of parkour per episode or more CGI anything. ANYWAY. Bonus update for you! More of the case at hand.**

* * *

Chin was convinced Sara was safe. Safe, as in inside all day and home "sick" from school and away from the grasp of the yakuza. If they really were after her in retaliation for Gabriel – if they indeed were unaware of his untimely death – at least Sara wasn't anywhere ordinary. With this in mind, Chin himself finally ventured outside that afternoon, pulling his car out of Rachel's garage and driving to the casino at the edge of town, nearly in the jungle. Conspicuous and hidden.

Keola had worked at the casino for nearly a year. He had driven along the off-road path many times. Was he missed at the casino? How long did it take for Keola's boss to realize Keola had been murdered, that he would not be returning to work?

Chin ran a hand along his face and turned off the radio. He hadn't been listening to it anyway. He had been driving for half an hour. It was liberating, to finally be away from the tense air of recovery and stagnation of the Edwards home. The family dynamic was giving Chin a headache. He was glad Sara had taken a liking to Danny's children, though. That seemed to be the only reason Chin continued to tolerate the lack of communication in the house. One, he was a guest; two, because even though Stan, Rachel, Danny, and Steve would silently eat dinner without so much as a glance at each other, Sara would inevitably ask Grace and Charlie to play a game with her.

The casino was up ahead, and Chin removed himself from his thoughts to park in the grass. He checked his phone. Kono had texted the group that her trip to see Keola's biological father in prison was unsuccessful. Lou had yet to remark on his conversation with Keola's biological mother. Still, the two incapacitated members of 5-0 were eagerly responding to the group chat. Steve offered suggestions on how to proceed with Keola's father. Keola's father was key, he was saying, since he and Keola lived similar lives. They had the same job. Despite their separation, there were definite similarities. Perhaps the father still had ties to the outside. Danny, however, seemed to think the place to look was with Keola's mother. He kept requesting a summary from Lou's conversation. He didn't say it like that, of course, but that's what he meant.

Chin remembered how the group chat had remained silent for nearly a week after the plane crash. It had only just began to resurface, like a tie to the past that wasn't quite there anymore. A connection that had irreparably changed.

 _About to speak to our vic's boss._ Chin typed before hitting 'send' and getting out of his vehicle. The casino was smaller than Chin had expected. More run down. It appealed to locals, mostly, and tourists who were really looking to gamble. Certainly couldn't be found on a travel guide.

 _About to crush Sara in checkers._ Chin's phone beeped, and he read the message from Steve. He chose not to answer, but seconds later, his phone sounded again.

 _He's not going to do that._ Danny seemed to be reassuring Chin.

 _I will._ Steve's response was just as immediate.

Chin turned off the ringer on his phone and reached the front door to the casino. It swung open.

A gruff-looking man looked up from the bar area looked up from the ledger books he was reading by lamplight. The place was dimly lit. The light from his cigarette was one of the only sources of light in the room.

"A bit early, brah." He nodded at Chin. "Come back later."

"My name is Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly." Chin responded in kind. "I'd like to speak to whomever is in charge."

The man slowly took his cigarette out of his mouth and placed it in the ash tray.

He rubbed a hand along the stubble on his chin. "You're here about Keola, aren't you?"

"Yes." Chin said, stepping into the room. He walked over to the bar. "Have you been expecting me?"

"For some time, brah." The man shook his head. "For some time."

"Keola worked here." Chin started. "From what I understand he was quite an asset."

The man looked at Chin. "Yeah." He said. "He was."

"He made sure people paid their debts, right?"

"He worked with the younger ones." The man, still guarded, nodded slowly. "He was a kid, too."

 _I'm glad you recognize his age._ Chin almost scoffed. "And these 'younger ones,' who owed you money, Keola pressured them into do that, yes?"

"Yeah. He was good at what he did."

"Were any of these debtors dangerous?"

The man paused. "You're asking if they could kill?"

"I'd like to know if any of these young debtors have records of violence. If they could possibly be incited to a violent act."

"Well, yeah." The man said. "That should be obvious. I mean, maybe, maybe all of them had the possibility of killing Keola. I can't be expected to know who did what, if it was one of them."

"No one in particular stands out to you-?"

"Hold on." The man held up a hand frustrated. "Yeah, we had a problem a few weeks back."

"What do you mean?"

"We had this young guy, really sporadic. Came in and lost all he had on him, and then some. Said he would pay us back, and never did. Keola went to go see him, to get his money. He was shacked up with this older woman. She was bad business. Wouldn't pay the debt. She spoke for this kid, blackmailed Keola into staying away. The guy kept coming back, though, and losing more money. Eventually, Keola cornered the guy when he was alone. Without this woman. Beat the shit out of him. Later, he told me he was worried that this woman would retaliate."

"Do you have a name for this woman?"

"Yeah, yeah, hold on." The man pulled out his phone and scrolled through something. "Yeah. It's Kathy O'Neill. Ring any bells?"

Chin wrote down the name. "We'll look into it. Thank you for your time."

"Keola was a good kid." The man said, putting his phone away. "I hope you find whoever did this to him. Took you long enough to get here."

* * *

Chin phone was filled with unread messages by the time he got back into his car. He sat down in the driver's seat and began to scroll, amused. Most were from Danny and Steve. Charlie had joined Sara, and the four had broken up into teams. They were playing some game.

Kono, meanwhile, made small comments, mostly along the lines of an electronic eye roll.

 _Kathy O'Neill._

Chin saw the name and paused. It was a message from Lou, far up in the group message.

 _Spoke to Keola's mother. She had her sister go to Hawaii to spy on Keola. Name is Kathy O'Neill. Knew about the murder, apparently._

This text was immediately succeeded by _Name presumed to be alias._

 _I've got a hit on that name,_ Chin typed quickly, sending the message sentence by sentence. _Keola's boss recognized it. Girlfriend of a debtor Keola visited. Things didn't go well, apparently._

 _Any reason to suspect this woman of any wrongdoing?_ Danny asked just as Steve piped in with a _Talk to Makoa. See if he recognizes the name. Do we have a picture of this woman?_

 _Calling Eric now._ Kono assured the team. _Will have picture soon. He also wants in the group chat._

 _Absolutely not._ Danny responded immediately.

 _This group chat is deleted after case. Tell him it's not worth it._ Steve said.

 _We're not making memories over here._ Danny continued.

 _Here._ After a brief pause, a photo was sent to the group from Kono. The picture didn't mean anything to the group. A woman, with caramel hair pulled back and a bright smile. She appeared to be in her forties. _Kathy O'Neill. From a deleted Facebook photo Eric managed to resurface._

 _Atta boy._ Danny said.

 _He's learning._ Steve agreed.

 _I'm on my way to see Makoa._ Lou responded. _I'll show him the picture. If this is the woman who was at Lono's soccer game, we've got something here._

 _I'll take the photo to Keola's parents._ Chin suggested.

 _Good work, team._ Steve said after a brief lull in the constant alert tones Chin heard. _Wish I could join you out there._

 _We'll be back soon._ Danny assured his partner, and the rest of the team, as they set out on their respective tasks.


	15. Another (Unwelcome) Visitor

**The Recovery Period: Chapter Fifteen**

 **A/n: Here's hoping for some Scott Caan/Claire van der Boom scenes this season. Also, a brief content warning: there is strong language in this chapter and references to when Steve was shot and also just one big, built-up argument.**

* * *

That evening, when Rachel opened her front door to yet another member of 5-0, she could not physically bring herself to hide her displeasure. All she knew was that she was midway through yet another awkward dinner and the inclusion of Kono Kalakaua was not going to make anything better. Yet here she was.

"Rachel, hi." Kono started cautiously. "Can I come in? Just for a few minutes."

"A few minutes," Rachel repeated the phrase as she opened the door to let Kono in, not entirely sure what that meant anymore.

"I heard you've been holding up fort around here." Kono said as she entered. "Taking care of everyone."

"I haven't been given much of a choice, but, yes, I suppose I have." Rachel said coolly.

"Thanks for doing that." Kono continued, although she could sense the tension in the air already. She smiled politely. Rachel led her to the table.

There they were, all together. Kono stared at the scene in front of her. Charlie, Sara, and Steve sat on one side of the table. Steve was wearing a t-shirt and shorts. He looked tired, but as well as he had since before his surgery, since before the shooting. The food and company seemed to be beneficial to his recovery.

On the other side of the table sat Chin, Grace, and Danny. They had their backs to Kono, but Danny's hair, she noted with amusement, was as perfectly styled as ever. Surgery certainly did not sway his antics.

At the head of the table was Stan. The chair across from him, presumably Rachel's, was empty. Stan glanced up at Rachel first upon hearing her walk back into the kitchen. His eyes fell on Kono and he rolled his eyes involuntarily. He had been in a sour mood all day. He looked at Rachel next, exasperatedly. Rachel returned the look.

"Kono's here." Rachel said without pretense. Rachel, normally so polite, said the sentence matter-of-factly before returning to her seat. She gave Stan another look, which he returned with enthusiasm.

Chin turned first, surprised. "Cuz." He said. "Didn't know you were coming."

"Hey, Kono." Steve smiled at her. "Good to see you."

Grace fixed her father with a look, which he returned (the Williams family tended to _look,_ didn't they?) before Danny turned to greet Kono as well.

"Hey, Kono," he said.

"Hi. Uh, hi, everyone." Kono stepped forward. Rachel got up and pulled in a chair from the other room and placed it next to Chin. Kono gladly accepted. "I just wanted to…just wanted to check in. It's been a while, I know I've been a little distant, but I…I wanted to know how you all were doing."

Steve seemed a little confused, but took the question in stride. "You've kept in touch. You've been a great help with 5-0 and the case."

"She's talking about me, babe." Danny translated softly.

Steve glanced first at Kono, and then at Danny. "What, because-?"

"Because when you both were in the hospital I chose you over Danny." Kono admitted.

Chin sat back before looking towards the children. "What do you say, Charlie and Sara, want to see if you can kick a soccer ball past your Uncle Chin?"

"I can!" Charlie said. "I did it yesterday!"

"Ah, but today I'm a new man. You can't beat me today!" Chin said, standing up and popping a stray few grapes from his plate into his mouth. Charlie bounded after him. Sara followed after Grace took her hand and went with her.

"In front of my children?" Danny muttered under his breath. Steve glanced at him. He had heard.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Steve asked, looking at Kono.

"Danny has every right to be upset." Kono said.

Danny was silent. He pushed away his plate. Stan thought Danny looked just like Charlie did, when Charlie didn't want to eat the rest of his vegetables. Danny pushed the plate away far enough to put his elbows on the table and rest his chin in his hands.

Stan and Rachel had no reason to be involved in this conversation, but this was their house, dammit, and Stan was still eating. Desperate for an ally, Stan handed the salad bowl to Steve to pass to Rachel. He did so involuntarily.

"I'm tired of being out of the know." Steve said. He glanced between his teammates again. "You get that? I'm tired of having to guess what's wrong all the time. Ever since the crash I've been two steps behind on everything. Fill me in. I want a full briefing."

"Is that an order?" Danny muttered under his breath.

"That's an order." Steve responded immediately.

"There really isn't much to say, boss." Kono sighed. "I came here to apologize to Danny, that's all."

"Apologize for what?" Steve asked.

Kono hesitated for a moment. "When you were in the hospital, I never saw Danny, boss. I never went to see him. I convinced myself that he wouldn't know, that he was always asleep, but I should have known better. I did know better. I was just so worried about you, that I couldn't really think of anything else, or anyone else. But I was wrong. I see that now. I shouldn't have-"

"Can we just…does the peanut gallery have to be here?" Danny interrupted, gesturing towards Rachel and Stan.

"Should we go somewhere else?" Stan asked sarcastically. "Should we just leave the neighborhood completely? Would that be enough space for you to have such an incredibly redundant conversation?"

"I'm just asking for some privacy here, Stanley." Danny retorted.

"Oh, c'mon, Williams, there really isn't much left unsaid between us, is there?"

"You really believe that?" Danny laughed.

"Yeah, well, when you fuck my wife and take my kid I sort of-"

The sound of chairs scraping back was sudden and strong. Rachel and Danny were on their feet, Stan following suit not long afterwards. The sound seem to go on for ages to Steve. He cringed, closing his eyes, waiting for the ringing in his ears to stop.

"Boss?" Kono asked quietly, but Steve could not hear her over the yelling that had begun.

Rachel started: "Stan, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"Rachel, I'm sick of playing house! Enough is enough!"

"What's the matter with you, huh? Talking like that in front of my team? Where do you think you are? The kids are right outside-"

"Stan, the circumstances-"

"Fuck the circumstances!" Stan exploded. "Fuck them, Rachel! I'm tired of this. Why is _she_ here?" he pointed to Kono. "Is she staying, too? Why do you feel obligated to do this? Danny isn't _yours,_ anymore. He's not your responsibility. He never was. He was always too much for one person to handle."

"I can handle myself-"

"Stan, you don't understand-"

"'Don't understand'? I understand. You've told me plenty." Stan spit.

"Don't get mad a Rachel just because this is the first time you've been home long enough to actually notice anything different-"

"The first time?" Stan laughed. "Is that what you think? Is that the picture Rachel's painted of me? Listen, Williams, I've been around for your kids and your _wife_ a hell of a lot more than you have."

"Don't bring my children into this-"

"Stan-"

"You know," Stan ran a hand along his temple before picking up his glass of water absentmindedly. "You know, sometimes I really wonder why Rachel ever trusted you."

"Stan, this isn't the time-"

"She told me," Stan laughed, "she told me that this one time, when Gracie was four, the two of you were playing hide and seek, and Grace went and hid in a little crevice in the basement back in Jersey, just in a really dark corner, you had to crawl in and find her. And you couldn't do it. And she was left there. You left her there. By the time Rachel came home, Grace was just as scared as you were." Stan looked straight at Danny. "That's pretty fucking pathetic, Williams."

"Stan, Stan, please-" Rachel whispered. She had moved next to Danny, to hold him back, but Danny was silent. For once, he didn't have a retort ready to throw back in Stan's face.

"Stan-" Rachel started again. Danny stopped, reaching out and taking her wrist.

"You told him that?" Danny said. "Why would you tell him that?"

"Danny-"

"What?" Danny shook his head in confusion. "Were you trying to prove a point? How better he is for you? For Grace?"

"Danny, listen to me…"

"It worked though, didn't it?" Stan cut in.

"I swear to God, if you don't get out of this house-"

"This is _my house_!" Stan yelled, livid. He threw his glass as hard as he could. It hit the wall with a horrendously loud clatter and splintered into dozens of little pieces. It sounded like a gun shot.

And suddenly Steve and Danny were back in the helicopter, where Steve could only hear Danny's frantic cries for help and Danny could only see the dark red blood that poured from Steve's chest.

* * *

Makoa was not able to meet with Lou until that evening to show him the picture of Kathy O'Neill. Lou wasn't taking any chances by sending the photo by text or through email. He wanted a verbal confirmation from Makoa that this Kathy was their suspect.

Lono joined Makoa as well, when Lou finally made his way to their house. The three stood outside, on the porch, watching the sun set with apathy.

"Now, Makoa, I'm going to show you the picture of our suspect. I need you to tell me if this is the woman you saw that night on the beach. If this is the woman who was at Lono's soccer game."

"Yeah," Makoa nodded. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay." Lou said. He pulled up the photo. The brothers leaned in to get a better look when the photo appeared on the screen.

"Fuck." Makoa took the phone out of Lou's hand. His shoulders tensed. "Fuck," he whispered again, his breath catching in his throat. He glanced at Lou. "You know where she is?"

"Is that a confirmation?" Lou asked.

"That's her." Lono said quietly.

"That's her." Makoa repeated.

Lou let out a breath. "Okay." he said. "Now you listen to me. I want you to sit tight, okay? Wait for a call from 5-0. Got that?"

Lono nodded.

"Makoa, you with me?" Lou asked.

"Who is she?" Makoa looked up, eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall.

Lou sighed, running a hand along his head. "She's Keola's aunt."

* * *

Grace came running into the house, ignoring Chin's cry of protest, when the glass hit the wall and shattered. Chin, meanwhile, distracted Charlie and Sara, although his phone rang not long after. Lou was calling.

Rounding the corner into the kitchen, Grace's eyes widened. Stan's glass lay in a shattered heap on the ground. Water dripped from the wall onto the ground. Stan had left the room, however. He had stormed out not long after he had thrown the glass. Grace could hear him now, in the garage, turning on his car. He was leaving.

"Danno?" Grace started softly, looking next at her father. Danny stood, clutching the back of the chair in front of him. He looked distant. He was staring in front of him, but he wasn't really looking at anything. He was in a different world. "Danno?" she tried again. She had seen this look on his face only once or twice, just after Uncle Mattie had died. But Danny has asked Rachel to keep Grace during that time, during their scheduled weekends together. He had been distant from everyone except Steve, and then even Steve at some points. Steve, who was shaking his head and rubbing his temples. Steve, who looked just as lost as Danny. Kono sat next to Steve, rubbing his arm absentmindedly. She had no idea what to do.

"Danno." Grace whispered, stepping forward. She took his hand gingerly. Finally, he looked at her. He blinked. Cleared his throat. Released one shaky hand and placed it on her soft cheek. Now that she was close enough to him she could see how heavily he was breathing. Her father was anxious about something.

"Thought you were going to stay outside, huh?" Danny said quietly, forcing himself to smile at his daughter, to appear to be calm.

"I'm not a kid, Danno." Grace said.

"Sure you are." Danny shook his head. "You're a kid. You're my kid."

"Danno, are you okay?" Grace pressed.

Danny paused. _Yes, of course. I'm always okay. Your Danno's always okay._ The words flowed through his head but Danny didn't say them. He couldn't get the gunshots out of his head. He couldn't get Steve's blood off of his hands. So, in the end, Danny shrugged. He didn't say anything. "C'mere," he said instead, pulling Grace into a hug. He kissed the top of her head. "Thank you for asking."

"Steve." Kono squeezed her boss's arm. "What are you thinking?"

Steve pulled his head out of hands. He shook his head again. Stan, Rachel, and Danny's fighting had triggered something in him. All he could remember was Danny's frantic yelling and the other passenger – there was someone else in the helicopter, right? The reason they went up in the air in the first place – yelling back at Danny. He had only remembered snippets from the helicopter before, and then Danny had left the hospital early and Steve had not had a chance to really talk out what happened with him. But Danny's raised voice today meant something to Steve. Stan breaking his glass made things that much worse.

Steve stared at Danny as Danny enveloped his daughter in a hug. Involuntarily, he ran a check on his partner. Danny's breathing was labored. He was pale. He held onto Grace a little too hard.

Steve scanned the room. The broken glass was still on the floor. He could hear Chin and the kids in the backyard. The kids might run in and cut themselves on accident. He couldn't just let that happen—

"Whoa, boss?"

"I'm fine." Steve answered gruffly, standing up. His head still pounded. His vision blurred as he stood up. He placed his hands on the table, steadying himself. He felt drained. Steve felt another overwhelming need to sleep, despite the fact that sleep, in his opinion, was a waste of time. Ever since surgery, Steve had done nothing but sleep. But sleep might take away the headache.

First, he needed to clean up the broken glass.

"Steve?" A new voice. Steve's head pounded, but the voice was one he recognized.

"Yeah?" Steve took a step backwards.

"Steve, I know what you're doing. Don't worry about it. I'll get it." It was Danny. He had pulled away from Grace, but kept a protective arm around her. He looked just as worn as Steve felt. "Don't worry about the mess, huh?"

"Don't want you to worry." Steve answered through a clenched jaw. He closed his eyes. God, his head was pounding. The light in the kitchen was so bright.

"I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about you."

"I'm worried about _you_." Steve answered.

"Yeah, buddy, I got that." Danny laughed. "But I'm not the one with the migraine."

"I'll be fine." Steve let out a breath. "Just get me out of this helicopter."

"Boss." Kono spoke first, before Danny could say anything. But Danny wasn't saying anything. He stared at Steve, paling. "Boss, you're not-"

"Room." Steve answered quickly. "I meant…I meant room. I just need…I need to-"

Rachel entered the room, then, holding a rag. She glanced at the condition of the room and let out a sigh. "Stan left?"

"Yeah," Danny let out a breathless, humorless laugh, running a hand along his face. "Yeah, he's gone."

Rachel sighed again. "He shouldn't have left. Some of the glass cut him."

"Stan's hurt?" Grace asked.

"Stan's a big boy." Danny cut in, impatient. "Steve, let's get you upstairs. Okay? You should sleep."

"You're always so angry, Danno." Steve muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He let Danny's shaky arm take his shaky arm, and the two began to trudge out of the room.

"You yelled at me even when I was unconscious, didn't you?" Steve glanced at his partner, eyebrows painstakingly raised. "Even when I was bleeding out in front of you."

"Don't." Danny's breath hitched. "Let's not use that terminology, Rambo, okay? This really isn't my favorite subject."

"Didn't you?"

"I may have…" Danny let go of Steve's arm. "What do you want me to say?" they were at the bottom of the staircase.

"Say…I don't know, say you're very loud."

"I'm very loud." Danny said. "I'm loud. I'm a loud person."

"I know." Steve said.

"You're speaking like a child, buddy. Let's get you into bed."

"You'll talk to Kono?" Steve asked, one hand on the railing.

"About?" Danny raised his eyebrows.

"You'll listen to her apology?" Steve clarified. "Accept to her apology, Danno."

"I like how we're going with 'Danno' again, that's nice. I really feel like your equal when you call me the same thing my fourteen year-old does."

"Always so angry." Steve muttered again, but he was trekking up the stairs now, one step at a time. Danny watched him until Steve disappeared into the guest room.

When he turned around, Kono was behind him, hands in her pockets.

"Steve's right, you know." She said. "I'd like to talk. I'd like to clear the air."

Danny nodded curtly. "Clearing the air would be…it would be good, I think."

"Yeah?" Kono laughed. "Sounds like a ringing endorse-"

"Kono." It was Chin. He had come in from the backyard, clutching his phone in his hand. "Lou just called. We've got a confirmation on our suspect. We've got to go."

"Right." Kono nodded. She looked at Danny. "I'm coming here right after we get our suspect."

"Maybe think of a neutral place, while you're out?" Danny suggested sarcastically. "Somewhere with less hostility?"

"You've got it, Danno." Kono said.

"Not you, too." Danny sighed.

"Later, brah." Chin said, and then he and Kono were out the door.

Danny sat down heavily on the bottom step of the stairwell, He figured he had a good thirty seconds before Charlie and Sara came back in and wanted to play another game, and Danny would be forced to show anything but the overwhelming anxiety that sat at the pit of his stomach.


	16. Emergencies

**The Recovery Period: Chapter Sixteen**

 **A/n: I've got two updates coming up here. I actually wrote this chapter a while ago, but I felt bad because this chapter focuses on the minor characters quite a bit. I try to balance these chapters out with a strictly Danny or Steve or Danny AND Steve chapter, but sometimes chapters like this are needed for, you know, the plot.**

 **On another note, [SPOILERS FOR 7x10] what did y'all think of Bridget? Once again, I hoped for _some_ mention of Mattie, but the Williams family seems pretty determined never to mention Mattie Williams again. Oh well. That's why we write these things, right? **

* * *

Listen, so, Eric was happy and all to help his Uncle D in any way he could, but he wasn't sure if sneaking him out of _another_ place of recovery was like, the best thing to do.

There. That was the carefully constructed speech Eric had prepared right after Grace had texted him that evening.

 _Can you come get Danno?_ She had started before explaining what had happened and finishing with _don't tell my mom but Danno needs to get out of here._

From his (guest) room in Danny's home, a home he alone had solely occupied for a glorious time now, Eric had frowned. He really wasn't expecting Danny to be ready to come home so soon. Also, a more pressing concern would be that Eric also had not done the dishes or cleaned the kitchen or bathroom in any way whatsoever. So.

 _What, now?_ Eric had texted back frantically, staring at the pizza box laying on the ground. God, Danny couldn't come back now. He would take one look at the place and have a heart attack. Shit, and Eric hadn't checked the mail in days. Shit, shit, shi-

 _Well yeah. Now would be good._

That was when Eric constructed his speech, yet minutes later, Eric found himself piling into his car and heading towards his cousin's home.

* * *

Kono, Chin, and Lou arrived at their suspect's residence at 9 p.m. that night after a near three hour drive. Kathy O'Neill lived on the opposite side of Hawaii. The sun was set. The three parked in the grass near the trailer. Chin and Kono had gone in Chin's car. Lou met them in his truck.

Before getting out of the car, Chin turned to his cousin. "What do you think, cuz?" he asked.

"What do I think about an aunt who may have killed her nephew?" Kono responded. She looked back at Chin. "I hope we're wrong about this."

"Yeah," Chin sighed, turning off the engine of his car. "Me too."

They got out the car and joined Lou in the yard. There was a light on in the trailer. Someone was clearly home.

"You two ready?" Lou asked, but he did not wait for a response. He was already headed towards the door. Perhaps, because the death of this boy had been so close to the near death of their trusted leader, their rock, Kono, Lou, and Chin, found themselves heavily invested in getting their suspect. More so than usual. Makoa deserved good news.

Chin knocked on the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited, the taller Kono and Lou flanked at his sides. "Kathy O'Neill? 5-0, open up." He said. "We need to talk to you."

There was a surprised rustling in response. Another lamp turned on. A muffled curse. Seconds later, the door opened. A young man looked at the three wildly. This was the young boyfriend, the one Kathy had sheltered and protected.

"I'm not Kathy O'Neill." The young man sputtered. He was only wearing a pair of boxers. Chin guessed he had been asleep.

"Yeah, Sherlock, we got that." Lou rolled his eyes. "Son, is this the residence of Kathy O'Neill?"

"Uh, yeah." He replied. "She's not here."

"Did she just leave?" Kono asked, although she knew the answer. They had hardly passed any cars on their way here. There was no way Kathy had been tipped off about their coming here.

"Kat's been gone for days." The man replied sullenly. "I don't know why. I don't know where she went. She left."

"You're her boyfriend, right?" Chin asked.

"Yeah." The man looked a little defensive. "How did you know that?"

"And your name?"

"Mike." He responded with even more trepidation.

"Mike, Kathy wouldn't mind if we took a look inside, would she?" Chin asked, already pulling on a pair of gloves. "That wouldn't be a problem?"

"Well, I don't know-"

"Well that's just too damn bad, because we're 5-0, and we're going in anyway." Lou grumbled, pushing past Chin, Kono, and the stunned Mike to enter the trailer.

"Don't worry," Kono smiled reassuringly at Mike as she passed him on her way in, "we won't take long."

"Um, okay." Mike said. "I'm not sure-"

"Son, I don't really care what you think, unless you _think_ you know where your girlfriend might be." Lou interrupted him again. The trailer seemed smaller on the inside. There wasn't much to it, really. An unmade bed in the corner. A television set. Some cupboards. A microwave.

"This place looks…" Kono started, but couldn't finish the sentence, as she joined Chin.

"Temporary." Chin finished for her. "She hasn't been here long."

"No one has." Kono nodded. She put on a pair of gloves and opened one of the cupboard drawers. A few stray, individual socks. Not much else. Some granola bar wrappers littered the next drawer. The next one had a few maps.

"Did Kathy take anything when she left, Mike?" Chin asked.

"Yeah, I mean, she took some clothes and stuff."

"And you don't know why she left, correct?" Lou asked as he pulled up the covers of the bed.

"Yeah. Uh, so, what exactly are you looking for?" Mike asked. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Chin glanced at Kono. The gun. They were looking for the gun.

"Oh, we're just looking." Kono responded evenly. "No need to get nervous."

"Okay, but, like, why are you-?"

"Getting tired of your questions again, son." Lou mumbled.

"Don't I have a right to know?" The young man snapped.

"Not unless your name is Kathy O'Neill!" Lou fought back.

"All right, guys, I'm not finding anything." Kono broke the tension. "There's not much we can do without our suspect."

"Suspect?"

But there was no time to answer the question, for the flash of headlights and rolling of wheels over grass indicated that the four were no longer alone. Lou stood up straight. Kono and Chin glanced at each other.

"You think it's her?" Lou asked.

They heard the car door slam shut. Mike closed his eyes.

"That's her." He whispered. "It's Kathy."

"Time to meet the woman of the hour." Kono muttered under her breath.

* * *

The garage door was open when Eric pulled up to the Edwards home. The automatic light in the garage was on as well. Eric guessed someone had just come home, but he wouldn't know who, and he also had no idea of the fight that had occurred mere hours before he arrived. Grace had only told him to pick up Danny, so here he was. Picking up Danny.

Hands casually thrust in the pockets of his jeans, Eric strolled into the garage. The door leading into the home was slightly ajar, and as Eric approached, he peered through the crack, for once not impulsively barging into the home.

The door led to the kitchen, where a pale Stan was standing, clutching one hand in the other. His car keys lay discarded on the counter next to him. He quite simply looked like he had no idea what to do with himself.

Stan looked down at his hand, and Eric saw, from the other side of the door, that Stan was bleeding. Eric immediately reached for his phone and scoured through he and Grace's texts. No, no, she had definitely not mentioned any injuries.

A light turned on, and Eric could hear footsteps from the staircase. Soon after, Rachel appeared. She looked equally as tired. She had a long cardigan wrapped around her thin frame, and as she looked at her husband, an enormous amount of empathy clouded her face.

"Where have you been?" Rachel started gently. She was not demanding an answer. She simply wanted to know.

Stan looked up. He had heard her come down the stairs but had yet to acknowledge her presence.

"I, uh," he sighed. "I don't know. I went to the office. I'm close, uh, on a really good deal. Wanted to work on it. Get my mind off things. But I…I couldn't…with this-" he lifted up his hand weakly. "Couldn't really focus."

"Stan." Rachel breathed out. She was soon at his side, taking his hand gingerly in hers. She pushed up his shirt sleeve. "Stan, you've cut your arm, too. Unbutton your shirt. No, no, hold on." She paused. "You won't be able to. Sit down."

Stan was hesitant, so Rachel repeated herself, with more force, until Stan sighed again. With his good hand, he pulled over a chair and sat unsteadily.

"Could use a drink." He muttered under his breath as he sat up straighter.

"Too bad I'm not your maid." Rachel responded just as quietly. Rachel pulled up a chair as well and sat before she began to unbutton his shirt. From Eric's viewpoint, he could see them in profile. Neither had yet to notice the garage door was not closed.

"Charlie and Grace asleep?" Stan asked after an uncomfortable silence.

"The little ones are. I'm sure Grace is awake." Rachel responded, intently focused on not looking at Stan and not hurting his bloody hand as she unbuttoned the buttons at his wrist.

"So they weren't…I mean. We didn't-"

"No, we didn't emotionally scar them." Rachel finished impatiently. "Lean forward."

Stan did as he was told, and as Rachel began to shrug the shirt off his back Stan let out a sharp hiss.

"Jesus. Fuck." Stan grunted as Rachel finally removed the shirt.

"Look what you've done to yourself." Rachel whispered painfully.

Eric leaned forward, eyes widening. The skin near Stan's left thumb was covered in dried blood. A long scrape trailed from his thumb down past his wrist. There were smaller cuts, too, along his hand and wrist, visible to Eric only because of the dried blood. Stan hadn't taken care of himself at all.

"You just drove away." Rachel finished Eric's thought. "You didn't even try to stop the bleeding."

Stan was staring at his hand, too. Perhaps this was the first time he had really seen the injury in its entirety.

"Are there shards of glass-?"

"No." Stan answered quickly. "No, no, I took care of the glass."

Rachel looked at Stan for a moment, searching his eyes for some sort of answer. Something Stan wasn't saying out loud.

Finally, dissatisfied, Rachel spoke again: "You really went back to work?"

Stan was silent.

"You're obsessed with your work, Stan." Rachel admonished. "You should have taken yourself to the emergency room." She stood, running a hand along the back of her neck. "Let me get something to clean off the blood."

"Rachel-" Stan grabbed his wife's hand before she could move too far away. "Rachel, don't. Let me."

"No-"

"Please." Stan stood. "I don't…you've done enough."

Rachel stepped closer to Stan, not letting go of his hand, but not sitting down. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked.

Stan looked down. He let go of Rachel's hand and stood, walking over to the sink. He pulled open a drawer next to it and took a washcloth, running it under warm water.

"I shouldn't have said what I did. Tonight. In front of all those people." Stan spoke slowly. He turned off the water and looked at his wife before turning his attention to his bloodied hand. "I mean it."

"And you meant what you said." Rachel reminded him. Stan hissed again as he dabbed at a tender spot on his wrist.

"You already know how I feel. I should not have…I shouldn't have _broadcasted_ our-"

"I know. I know, Stan. You were frustrated. I'm frustrated, too. You know that, don't you? You know how frustrated I am that all this responsibility has been placed on me? On us?"

"D-Danny was righ—fuck. God." Stan cursed, cringing.

"You need stitches, Stan. Look at yourself." Rachel sighed, taking the washcloth from his hand. "Let me help you."

"It didn't hurt as bad. Before." Stan said through gritted teeth.

"What were you saying?" Rachel tried to change the subject. "What was Danny right about?"

Stan let out soft laugh. "That I'm always away. I'm always working. I'm never here. That I've missed so much."

Rachel stopped, looking up at her husband. "And now you are here, and so is he."

"And everyone else."

"And everyone else." Rachel nodded, returning to her husband's hand. "You know, when you say Danny's right, even if he's not in the room, he can hear you."

"Great. So, what? I have an 'I told you so' headed my way?"

"You have at least that, yes." Rachel joked. She paused, looking at her husband once more. "Stan, I can't ask them to leave."

"I know."

"They trust me. They trust us. They trust this place."

"I know."

"Steve and Danny nearly died."

"I know."

"Chin and his niece-"

"The yakuza. I know. I know, Rach." Stan sighed. "Let's just…let's just hope things work out soon for everyone, okay? Especially us."

"So," Rachel started, not convinced, "what you said was just in the heat of the moment, or did you really mean what you said?"

"Oh, I meant it. I meant nearly everything." Stan responded quickly. "I just…I've had time to put things in perspective. You know, at the office. And I. I—Jesus Christ."

"It won't hurt as much if you stop moving." Rachel chided.

"I'm not moving."

"You're fidgeting, Stanley."

"Fine." Stan sighed. "Have I made my point?"

"Yes, of course." Rachel answered evenly. She set down the washcloth and reached into another drawer for some gauze bandages.

"And you have yet to make your point, so I assume you'll do so in the near future."

"I'll let you sleep first. You're exhausted." Rachel wrapped the bandages around his wrist. "I'm certainly not a medically professional, Stan." She continued, catching his impressed look. "Tomorrow morning I'm taking you to the hospital."

"All right." Stan nodded. "Fine. Anything you want. Am I all set?"

"You're all set." Rachel nodded, stepping back.

"Great. Thank you. I'm going to go tuck in Charlie." Stan said. He collected his shirt from the counter before pausing. "I'm sorry." He said, for good measure. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed or humiliated you."

Rachel placed her hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry, too."

Stan nodded, leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to Rachel's temple. They held each other for a moment before Stan pulled away and headed towards the stairwell.

* * *

"Who are you?" Kathy entered her trailer cautiously. She glanced wildly at her young lover and then back at Chin, Kono, and Lou. "Who the hell are all of you?"

"Ms. O'Neill," Kono began, stepping forward.

"Back off." Kathy snapped.

"Kat." Mike started. "Kat, they-"

"You shut up." Kathy interrupted him. She threw down her purse and keys, before looking at the three again. "I know who you are."

"Ms. O'Neill-"

"You're here. About his debts. Aren't you?" Kathy shook some brown hair out of her face. "You're always here about his damn money."

"Ma'am-"

"I'm telling you. I'm telling you once and for all. You need to back off." Kathy took a step back. She looked at the stoic faces in front of her. "Back off. Okay?"

"Ma'am-"

"Go _away!"_

And there it was. The gun. She was holding it in her goddamned hands.

"Son of a – ma'am, put your weapon on the ground." Lou let out a heaving sigh and pulled out his badge. "We're cops. Okay? We're not after your boy toy. We're after you."

"We have a few questions for you regarding the death of a young man named Keola."

Chin was not able to finish his sentence, for Kathy, in a moment of panic, fired her gun, and all hell broke loose.


	17. Leaving Again

**The Recovery Period: Chapter Seventeen**

 **A/n: Annnd here's a short second update. I briefly wanted to mention that I'm trying to characterize Danny as the show does. As the series has progressed, Danny has really turned into quite the worrier, and I think a prime example of this is 4x19, which in many ways was just a fantastic Danny episode. What I'm trying to say is that the writers have made Danny a lot more neurotic than he was in season one, and I'm trying to honor that by psychoanalyzing him at any given opportunity.**

 **As always, I so deeply appreciate your reviews!**

* * *

Danny laid on the couch in front of flickering television, a small quilt draped over his chest. Eric, who finally felt guilty about all the eavesdropping he was doing, followed Rachel into the living room.

"He's insisted on sleeping here." Rachel said with an exasperated shrug. "Ever since Steve arrived. I'm worried about Danny's ribs with him sleeping on his side."

"Gee, Auntie Rach, don't you have a ton of guest rooms?" Eric asked quietly, so as not to wake Danny.

Rachel glanced sideways at her former nephew. "You've only been on the first floor of this house, haven't you?"

Eric shrugged. "I mean, a man can guess, right?"

"You're not a man." Danny grumbled, rolling onto his back with some difficulty. He sighed and opened his eyes. "You're an entitled kid, and you woke me up. What's the matter with you, huh? What are you doing here?" Danny's words were accusatory but his tone was lifeless. He was exhausted.

"Daniel," Rachel started, taking a seat at the coffeetable across from the couch. "Eric heard what happened tonight and-"

"W-What does that mean?" Danny rubbed his temple, his other hand clutching his side. "How could he possibly know, huh? Who told him?"

"Uh, your daughter." Eric cut in, but Danny did not seem to be interested in his nephew, and swatted his words away.

"So, what, he's checking up on me?" Danny asked Rachel. He pushed himself into a sitting position and ran a tired hand along his face and over the stubble on his chin.

"He wants to take you home, Daniel." Rachel put in, quietly. "He only just told me. I would have told you sooner if I had known."

"Yeah, okay, but if I could just redeem myself, here, Grace didn't text me until like two hours ago. I got here as fast as I could."

"Grace set this up?" Finally, Danny turned to Eric. "Where is she? Is she up? is she-?" Danny started to stand but stopped, grabbing his chest suddenly. It wasn't good for his ribs to sleep on the couch, but Danny hadn't been able to sleep thinking that Steve might be uncomfortable on the couch, so he had forced them to switch. It was that or share the bed, as Stan had snarkily suggested as he helped Steve up the stairs. Both Steve and Danny vehemently opposed this idea.

"Your ribs, Danny…" Rachel sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, I got that." Danny sighed, shaking his head as if to rid away the pain. "Would you continue, please? Would someone tell me the whole story, here?"

"You want a change of scenery, Uncle D?" Eric asked bluntly. "You wanna get out of here?"

Danny was silent. He glanced at Rachel, who held his gaze. She wanted to know exactly what he was thinking.

"I, uh, I'm not sure what to say. Danny admitted, still looking at his ex-wife. "I-"

"Let me tell you what I think." Rachel cut in, sensing Danny's trepidation.

For once, Danny bit back a sarcastic comment and was silent. He sat back against the cushions and folded his arms against his chest, listening.

"You're still in pain, so I think it's best for you to be under someone's supervision. The reason you were here is because you're alone-"

"Uh-uh, I reject that phrasin-"

"You're alone." Rachel ignored Danny. "So, you're staying here, with me, with your children, it was a good idea. It was. I don't regret this."

"But."

"But, here, now, with Steve, Chin, and little Sara, things are different. I'm not convinced this is the best environment for you. Charlie doesn't fully understand what's going on, as we've both witnessed. His pestering you isn't helping you-"

"My child could never pester me-"

"Daniel. Listen to me. To mention the obvious, Stan's having trouble with this as well. He's always had his…conflicts with you and your job, but with the constant discussion of this new case Chin is working on, he's worried. He's worried about the kids and he's-"

"He's incredibly angry, that's what he is." Danny put in, unable to resist.

"Danny." Rachel hit him softly on the shoulder. "He really hurt his hand tonight. I'm taking him to the emergency room tomorrow morning."

"So it's not that much of an emergency?"

"He wanted to tuck in Charlie, and he was tired. He needs to rest." Rachel responded.

Danny looked down. "All right. Point taken, there. You want me to leave?"

"I'd like to reintroduce that this was Grace's idea, not Auntie Rach's." Eric put in for good measure.

"Yeah, but both of you are in agreement." Danny was quick to respond. "Right?"

Eric glanced at Rachel before responding. "Right."

"Because this environment is no longer-"

"Healthy, right." Eric nodded empathetically, not even trying to stifle a yawn. "Right, right, right."

"Great." Danny nodded back. "Well, then. If this whole damn fiasco has taught me one thing, it's that I know when I'm not wanted."

"Danny!" Eric and Rachel both protested to this but Danny waved them off, slowly standing up.

"No, no, I get it." Danny said. "Grace is clearly on to something. She's as smart as her mother." He took the quilt and folded it carefully before handing it to Rachel. "It'll be just like I was never here, trust me. I'm getting pretty good at leaving places quietly in the middle of the night."

Honestly, Danny knew he was being an asshole, but he thought he deserved a few moments of unfiltered sarcasm. He also knew Grace was right. His fight with Stan pretty much confirmed what Danny had been thinking since he had arrived at the Edwards household. He wasn't welcome, he was a guest, and he wouldn't be staying long. Still, Danny truly appreciated how much Rachel had cared for him. She had shown a surprising amount of affection. Stan had, too, when he wasn't hurling accusations at him or throwing china against the wall. They had put up with a lot, too, with Steve and Chin and Sara and Danny's incessant ramblings – yes, he knew he rambled – as well as Grace's tantrum the other night and Charlie's obliviousness.

Rachel was right, though. Danny _was_ alone, and the prospect of returning to the home he bought specifically so his children wouldn't think he was as single as he really was in his tiny apartment did not really appeal to Danny. Eric was an oaf. Danny secretly loved his nephew, he had since he had been born, but Eric was an oaf, and quite honestly the last the last of the Williamses that Danny wanted to see at the moment.

Danny was an extrovert at heart in that he constantly yearend for the company of others. He had grown up surrounded by siblings, cousins, teammates, and friends. When he wasn't worrying himself sick – really, physically sick – about protecting every single one of them, Danny did relish in their company.

Despite the circumstances and obvious unresolved tension from nearly everyone in the house, the last few days had been at times enjoyable for Danny. He forgot about the incessant dull pain of his healing ribs when he focused on his children, or on little Sara and Chin, or on Steve playing guitar against Danny's wishes. He loved to watch Rachel bustle throughout the house, making sure everyone was okay – they were similar, that way – and the constant noises: the jingle of car keys, and clinking of dishes being set on the table, Steve strumming that damn guitar…really, Steve had been cornering Danny with his rendition of "Fly Me to the Moon" for the past twenty-four hours as an attempt at repentance. The noises reminded Danny of the hustle of the city he had left seven years ago.

So, really, the idea of moving back to his silent home with a nephew who might not speak for six hours straight if he was engrossed in a video game on any given Sunday wasn't the best option.

But Rachel was tired. Stan was practically neurotic. Danny himself wasn't doing too well anymore.

"You know what, forget I said that last part." Danny muttered, breaking the awkward silence that had descended over the three. "Just let me pack up my things, yeah? Give me a few minutes."

"Danny?" Rachel called as Danny began to ascend the stairs. He turned to look at her. Once again, she held his gaze.

"Tell Steve." She said. "Don't leave without telling him again."


End file.
